


Of Punky Bois and Punky Colors

by verfound



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Confessions, Dingo shows up for one second, Endgame Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, F/F, F/M, Gift Fic, Growing Up, HAIR DYE SHENANIGANS, Kitty Section, Let's be dorks together, Lukanette Exchange 2020, Makeover, Minor Ivan Bruel/Mylène Haprèle, Moving On, No Smurfs were actually harmed in the making of this fic, Rose is an Actual Unicorn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26562553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verfound/pseuds/verfound
Summary: Marinette’s been through a lot in the past year, and she’s ready to start over.  A new haircut for the next stage of her life feels like just what the doctor ordered, and thankfully she has some punky friends who are more than happy to help.
Relationships: Ivan Bruel/Mylène Haprèle, Juleka Couffaine & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Rose Lavillant
Comments: 37
Kudos: 319
Collections: Crikey!  A Wild Dingo has Appeared!





	1. Punky Bois

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lalunaunita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalunaunita/gifts).



> Written for the Lukanette Exchange 2020. My exchangee was lalunaunita, who (among some other things) asked for: one or the other helping with hair dye/result of hair dye, inside jokes, Kitty Section, and friendship before lovers (which I overthought ENTIRELY too much bc lbr this ship already is FBL). I’ve been wanting to do a hair dye fic for AGES, so thanks for bumping that up the list. (This is not the hair dye fic I’d originally planned, but there you go.)
> 
> This also…got waaaay longer than I had any intention of making it, so look for Pt2 & the P.S. on Wednesday. xD Hope you enjoy the shenanigans!

Marinette puffed her cheeks out and studied her reflection in the little mirror she’d placed inside her locker. Logically, she knew it was the same girl of the past three or four years staring back at her. She had the same blue eyes, lined by full lashes she had definitely inherited from her father’s side of the gene pool. She had the same shiny, straight black hair that glinted blue in the right (ok _all_ ) light, cut with the same straight bangs and styled in the same low pigtails. Her cheeks were dusted with the same blush, her eyes enhanced with the same mascara and minimal shadow, her lips shone with the same…well. Not the same gloss. She used to use a passion fruit-flavored lip gloss, but she had given that up a few months back. She had tried a few different flavors over the summer, but ultimately kept returning to a berry-flavored gloss that for some reason had always just made her…happy. Still, lip gloss was lip gloss, and it was still the same clear coat that shone on her lips, even if it was a different flavor.

From the looks of things, it was the same girl staring back at her in the mirror. Even if her features were a bit more defined, that was just growing up. She wasn’t thirteen anymore.

…but she knew, even if the mirror didn’t, that she was no longer the same girl.

She puffed her cheeks out again and reached up to tug on a bang. She tilted her head and pushed her pigtails back, almost hiding them from view. The result was…nothing too impressive. She just looked like she had her hair tied back. So, by all appearances…still the same girl.

She wanted a makeover. Nothing too drastic – or maybe something very drastic – but something that would let her look at herself and not see Plain Old Marinette staring back at her. Something that would make others notice it, too. And her hair – her trademark pigtails – would be the easiest place to start. She wanted something…new. Something different. Something that would reflect all of the changes that had been happening around and to her as of late.

Because, really, a lot had happened in Marinette’s life since her thirteenth birthday. Hell, a lot had happened since the last month of collège! She was a superhero. She was _Ladybug_. More than that, she was now the Guardian. And while she was no closer to catching Hawkmoth, discovering his identity, or retrieving his stolen Miraculous(es, as it wasn’t just the Butterfly but also the Peacock in his possession), there was now more on her plate than ever before. She had started lycée this year – was almost in her third month of her first year. And while she was thriving at Lycée Sant-Saëns, she had to admit she had more coursework in lycée than she’d had in collège. It was busier, but it was a good kind of busy. She was still involved with student government, having easily won the role of Class Rep after she had confidently volunteered after citing the work she had previously done as her old class’s representative. She still took commissions, including an ever-increasing load from Jagged Stone and a few other artists he’d shared her information with. (Including a few pieces for _Clara Nightingale_ , and a frankly _bizarre_ e-mail she had been more than happy to reject from Bob Roth about XY’s upcoming album cover. _As if._ Still, she was first and foremost “Jagged’s Girl” – as he _loved_ to remind everyone he sent her way.) She still made the costumes for Kitty Section, and had even started helping with their merch and stage design, and had also done the artwork for the EP they’d released the previous summer. She…

…was also still single. Which was fine. She was ok with that. Sorta. She had realized months back, around the time he’d started dating someone else, that maybe her crush on Adrien Agreste had been just that: a silly crush that had maybe bordered _Obsessive Stalker Fangirl_ at times. It had hurt in the beginning, seeing him with Kagami, but they were both her friends and she was happy to step back and let them be happy together. Besides, she had lost Master Fu and assumed her Guardian duties around the same time. She had had more than enough on her plate with a Miracle Box full of kwamis she now had to care for. She hadn’t had time to worry about her love life, so she just…hadn’t. Stepping back from her crush, from the prospect of dating, had made sense at the time.

Her hands dropped from her pigtails at that thought. She had told herself she hadn’t had time, at least. Her heart had seemed to have other ideas though. Without the clamor of _Adrien_ drowning everything else out, she had been able to hear a softer melody below the noise. One that had been there for a while and was only getting stronger. One that she thought she might like to hear more of but hadn’t really let herself. She had responsibilities, after all. Her duty.

Hawkmoth was still on the loose.

And Master Fu had loved Marianne from afar for years because of his…responsibilities. (And while they were happy together _now_ – Marianne sent her letters from time to time to keep her updated – that didn’t erase years of pain and pining and an akumatization that had almost ruined it all.)

She wasn’t sure if she could do the same. If she _wanted_ to do the same. She was learning – the more time she spent with the kwamis, the more she learned about her new role as Guardian – that there was a lot that Master Fu had done that she would, _could_ do differently. Master Fu had been young when he’d become a Guardian, after all, and he had never actually completed his training. Wayzz had taught him a lot over the years, but Master Fu had let fear dictate many of his decisions.

Marinette didn’t want to be that kind of Guardian. Marinette wanted to have _hope_.

Thinking of kind blue eyes and a heartfelt song plucked out on guitar strings, Marinette thought she didn’t want to be the kind of Guardian that waited over fifty years to accept the love and support being offered her. She wanted…

Two hands clapped down on her shoulders, the weight of another body jumping on her shaking Marinette out of her spiraling thoughts. She squeaked and turned her head, her hands automatically raising to defend herself, but it was only Rose. Her friend grinned at her, her wide blue eyes sparkling in delight.

“Marinette!” she cried. She reached up and pinched her cheeks, lifting them into a semblance of a smile that had Marinette laughing. “You look so _serious!_ Cheer up – it’s Friday!”

When Rose let go of her face, Marinette’s lips stayed up in an honest smile. She rubbed her cheeks and rolled her eyes at her friend.

“I’m plenty cheerful, Rose,” she said. She saw Juleka walking up, her backpack slung over her shoulder, and waved.

“You were staring at that mirror pretty hard,” Juleka murmured. She reached out and tugged one of Marinette’s pigtails. Juleka knew all about Deep Thoughts and mirrors, Marinette thought with a roll of her eyes. “Care to share?”

Marinette looked back at her mirror and bit her lip, her smile slipping as she considered herself again.

“I just…was thinking…” she started, and Rose giggled.

“Uh-oh,” she teased, grinning at her girlfriend. “Marinette thinking. That’s never good!”

“Rose,” Juleka sighed, rolling her eyes fondly. Marinette shrugged.

“I was just thinking it might be time for a change. With my hair,” she finally said. At her friends’ surprised looks, she shrugged. “I…I’ve had the same hair for a while, is all. And we’re in lycée now. This is a new chapter of our lives. I was just thinking…I don’t know. Maybe a new hairstyle to celebrate that? The pigtails just don’t feel like _me_ anymore.”

“You’ve always looked cute with your bun,” Rose said, but Marinette frowned as she looked back at the mirror. She usually wore the bun for convenience, not because she was particularly crazy about it. It was cute enough, but for a permanent change? She wasn’t so sure on that.

“You look super hot with your hair down,” Juleka offered. At Rose’s indignant gasp, she leaned in and kissed her cheek. “We’ve both agreed Marinette is hot. I’m allowed to make that general observation without it affecting how hot I think _you_ are.”

“Damn straight,” Rose tutted, nodding primly. Marinette bit down on her smile again as Rose winked at Juleka. “Besides, _you’re_ not the Couffaine that wants to – eep!”

She squeaked as Juleka smacked the back of her head, and she giggled nervously. Marinette’s face warmed. She had a pretty good idea she knew what Rose had been about to say, and it wasn’t like she was wrong. Juleka _wasn’t_ the Couffaine who had expressed a growing interest in the hotness of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, after all. She bit down on her smile and turned back to the mirror, considering Juleka’s suggestion and trying to not let her thoughts wander too far towards blue-haired guitarists.

(…well. No more than they already or usually did.)

She wasn’t sure how she felt about wearing her hair down, either. That felt too similar, like it wasn’t a big enough change. Besides, that particular hairstyle only invoked Adrien Memories, and while she was honestly over him there would always be a slight sting involved there. He might not have been her first love, but she had thought he was. Going crazy over Adrien had been a stepping stone to who she was now, and even if she didn’t love him anymore – even if she never really had – he would always hold a piece of her heart, no matter how small.

“I was thinking something more…” Marinette paused, looking for the right word. She didn’t want to say _drastic_ , even if that was what she was going for. “…different.”

“…how different?” Juleka asked, quirking an eyebrow. Marinette glanced at Rose, a sudden spark of inspiration hitting her. She had always loved Rose’s pixie cut, and Sabine was proof Cheng women looked good with short hair, too. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d considered a shorter cut, and it had been years since she’d cut off anything more than an inch or two for maintenance. She looked back at Juleka with a smile Juleka had come to call her _Creator Smile_.

“Short,” she said, looking back at her mirror and again moving her pigtails back to give the impression of a shorter cut. She nodded. She liked it. She really liked it. Catching a glimpse of Juleka’s dyed bangs over her head, another idea struck her. “…and maybe pink.”

Rose’s gasp sounded more like a squeal, and she started bouncing and clapping her hands.

“Oh, oh, oh – it’s _perfect!_ ” she said. She grabbed Marinette’s hands, shaking her arms with every bounce. “Marinette, you should come to the Liberty tonight!”

“I…it’s Friday,” Marinette said. Rose waved her off. Of course she knew it was _Friday._ “I’m already going to be there.”

“Well, _duh_ – Kitty Section can’t well rehearse without our fifth member!” Rose tutted. She squeezed Marinette’s hands and winked at her. “I meant _after_. You should stay for Dye Night!”

“For…what?” Marinette asked, looking back at Juleka in confusion. Juleka’s head was tilted to the side, considering her.

“You thinking all-over pink-pink or just tips? Like me and Luka?” she asked. Marinette looked over Juleka’s purple and thought another minute. She could already see it in her mind: a short bob, maybe a pageboy cut, with sweeping bangs tip-dyed pink. She liked it. She liked it a lot.

“I think maybe just the bangs?” she hazarded. “I could do some sketches during practice to get a better idea, but I think…yeah. Short like Rose and Maman. Pink bangs. I think that would be good.”

Juleka’s smirk told her she agreed, but there was an underlying, mischievous glint in her eye that – had Marinette focused long enough on it – might have given her pause. For her part, Juleka was picturing Marinette with the shorter, pinker hair and thinking of her stupid brother. Specifically, thinking: _Luka is going to Lose His Shit. I cannot wait._

“Cool,” Juleka said, dropping a fist against Marinette’s shoulder. “We gotta get to math, but you should definitely stick around tonight. We’re doing touch-ups, and Rose has been wanting to try purple.”

“ _Lilac_ ,” Rose tutted. She gave Marinette a considering look, her grin widening. “Though now that you mention it…Jules, what do you think about lilac _and_ pink? Oooh! I could add that pretty mint we saw, too! Juleka, I could have _unicorn hair!!!_ ”

“I think you’re already dangerous enough,” Juleka muttered. “Manic Pixie.”

Rose giggled and smacked a kiss against her cheek. She turned back to Marinette with a grin.

“You should _definitely_ stay – we’ll make a night of it! The whole band’s going to be there anyway. Mylène and Ivan need touch-ups, too. It’ll be a Kitty Section Party!” Rose giggled. Juleka shifted her bag, nodding.

“I think Luka even said Dingo was coming,” she said. “God, that’s gonna be a nightmare. His hair’s so thick he uses like three jars of dye, and it takes him _forever_ to wash it out.”

Rose snapped her fingers and grinned, adding, “Oooh, we should ask Bri, too! Bri would look great with an ombré, like Alya!”

Marinette’s stomach flipped pleasantly. She should have realized, when Rose had said _Dye Night_ and that they all needed touchups, the _they_ would include Luka. Not just Luka! Luka, and Ivan, and Mylène, and Dingo, and possibly even Brielle…it was no different than any other sleepover at the boat. She’d spent tons of nights there with the Girl Squad, and Luka had usually been a quiet presence in the background every time. It was nothing to freak out over. Just a night with Luka. The band! A night with the band! Her friends! Dying hair!

…and, if she really was going to go through with this, Marinette _really_ wanted their help with her hair. They were more experienced with colors, after all. She wasn’t even sure if her hair would take the dye, and she didn’t even want to think about the bleaching she was sure would be involved…

“Ok,” she said, nodding. “Yeah. That sounds great, guys. Thank you!”

“Do you have a hair place, or do you not care?” Juleka asked. Marinette shrugged.

“Honestly, Maman’s cut it for years,” she said. “I usually only take an inch or two off to manage it. Keep the dead stuff off. I haven’t had it cut-cut in years.”

“I know a place that does walk-ins,” Juleka said. “Usually not too busy after school. They’re good, and we can get the dye there, too. You’re gonna look _sick_ , Mari.”

Juleka raised her fist, and Marinette giggled as she bumped their knuckles together.

“I can’t wait,” she said. They all looked up as the warning bell chimed, and Marinette sighed.

“Guess that means class,” she said. She had history next, and she wasn’t exactly looking forward to it. Her teacher tended to drone on like white noise. “I’ll meet you guys at the steps after school?”

“Cool,” Juleka said, waving as Marinette closed her locker and ran off. When she was gone, Juleka turned to Rose and arched a perfectly manicured brow.

“Mylène has her hair professionally done,” she said. It was a statement of fact, as if she were merely commenting on the weather. Rose hummed, rifling through her bag for her math homework. Juleka flicked her forehead, but Rose kept her attention on her bag. Her lips quirked in a little smile.

“And Ivan’s working this weekend,” she continued. “He has to be there early tomorrow and can’t hang after practice.”

“Oh, is he? I thought he worked last weekend,” Rose said absently. Juleka tried not to smile.

“And you know there’s no way in hell Bri would _ever_ dye her hair,” she added. “Too mainstream alt.”

“It doesn’t hurt to ask,” Rose said, her nose still in her folder. She yanked a paper out from the back with a triumphant whoop. “A-ha! Got’cha!”

“ _Rose_ ,” Juleka wheedled. When Rose finally looked up, Juleka was watching her with a knowing little smirk and a devious light dancing in her eyes. Rose beamed as if nothing was amiss.

“Juleka Couffaine, are you accusing me of _scheming?_ ” she asked. Juleka bent down to kiss her forehead, linked their hands, and began walking to their math class. Fridays sucked that way.

“My dear Rose,” she said, laying her other hand over her heart like the very thought had mortally wounded her. “I would never dream it.”

Besides, Juleka thought with a grin, it wasn’t like she wasn’t guilty of scheming herself.

_Luka is going to Lose His Fucking Shit._

– V –

Luka loved Fridays. Yeah, they started with Belcourt and Theory and kinda sucked that way, but his last class was a study hall, and the teacher was just cool enough that she didn’t really care if – once he checked in for attendance – Luka grabbed his guitar and made his way to one of the practice rooms down the hall. If his best friend Dingo tended to tag along, the teacher didn’t really care about that, either. Everyone in the school knew Luka Couffaine (for his talent, dedication, kindness, and being a _Couffaine_ ), and everyone in the school knew Dingo King (for being…well, _Dingo_ ), so the teacher knew they shared quite a few music classes together. Last period on Fridays more often than not ended up being a jam session with his best bud, and that made Fridays pretty cool in Luka’s books.

Plus, Kitty Section usually had band practice on Fridays. Which meant he got extra Marinette Time on Fridays.

Yeah. Luka _loved_ Fridays.

Something bounced off his head, and while it wasn’t anything hard or heavy (looking at the ground, Luka saw Dingo’s empty water bottle) it was jarring enough to make him stumble the next chord. He looked up, his eyes narrowing at his grinning friend. Dingo tapped out a jaunty tune on his bongos.

“You’ve got that smile again,” he sing-songed. Luka’s lips pursed, and Dingo snickered. The random tune he was tapping turned into something more familiar, more childish. “Luka and Mari, sittin’ in a tree –”

“Shut the hell up,” Luka groused, scooping up the bottle to toss it back at him. “And throw out your damn trash.”

Dingo snickered and chucked the bottle at the bin. Luka looked back at his guitar, his fingers pausing on the strings. His phone had buzzed. His eyebrows rose when he saw the message.

_JC: Yo dingo still comin 2nite?_

He frowned, typing out an affirmative.

_LC: yeah. that was the plan._

_LC: shouldn’t you be in math?_

_JC: Pop quiz. Finished early._

_JC: Don’t bring ding._

Luka’s eyebrows rose a little higher.

“I think you just got uninvited to Dye Night,” he said. Dingo looked up from his bongos.

“What?” he asked. Luka turned his phone to show him the screen, and Dingo’s eyebrows furrowed over his shades. He was wearing a bright blue pair today that were supposedly called _Lagoona Lunch_. A dark green, serpentine tail wrapped around the arms. “Why?”

_LC: …ok. mind telling us why? you hurt his feelings, jules. :(_

_JC: Dingo doesn’t have feelings._

Luka snickered. Harsh, but true.

_JC: Ro & me bringing someone. Ding will scare her off._

_JC: U can thank me l8ter. :)_

_JC: Also ro wants 2 b a unicorn plz help me talk her out of this hair._

Luka was suddenly suspicious, but he shrugged, typed out an ‘ok’ (and a ‘now pay attention to class!’), and put his phone back down.

“Apparently they want to bring someone and are afraid you’ll scare them off,” Luka said. He picked out his own jaunty little tune, and Dingo laughed.

“Me? I’m a harmless puppy, mate!” he said. He looked at Luka over his shades and winked. “She just doesn’t want to clean my hair out of the drain.”

Luka grimaced and looked back to his guitar, finding the tune his phone had interrupted.

“Nobody wants that, you rabid animal,” he said. Dingo cackled, but Luka was already lost in another song, one of river breezes and fairy lights and blush-dusted cheeks under a summer moon…

– V –

Juleka picked up another jar of pink dye – this one titled _Strawberry Jam_ – and snapped a picture. It wasn’t from the brand they’d be buying, but Rose had seen the name ( _Unicorn Hair_ ), declared it a sign, and had been organizing stacks of potential color combos the entire time Marinette had been in the back.

…which had been a while now. Juleka honestly hadn’t thought she’d had that much hair.

Her phone buzzed, and she grinned when she saw the message.

_LC: still lost. for ro or you? didn’t think you were changing your color._

_LC: …is this something you’re doing for rose? she’s going purple so you have to go pink?_

She rolled her eyes, put the jar back on the shelf, and typed out a reply.

_JC: Not 4 me jackass. I’d never go that bright._

_JC: But which 1 do u like better?_

Marinette had already picked out her color – Flamingo Pink – but Juleka was…curious. Plus, she knew her cryptic messages had to be driving her brother crazy. When they showed up at the boat with Marinette and he put the pieces together, she was pretty sure he was going to implode.

She couldn’t wait.

_LC: it would help if i knew who it was for?_

_JC: It’s a surprise. ;)_

_JC: Just tell me which 1 u like more._

She snapped a picture of Rose’s stacks of dye and sent that to him, too.

_JC: Ro is scaring me she wants 2 b a unicorn._

_LC: the first one i guess? i dunno jules._

_LC: not my hair. not my call._

_LC: why are you being so weird today?_

She sent him back an emoji – the one with the tongue sticking out – and stashed her phone away. Marinette was walking back up with the stylist. When they rounded the partition, Rose actually screamed.

“Oh my GOD, Marinette, you look amazing!!!!!” her manic pixie unicorn shrieked, bolting from the ground to throw her arms around their blushing friend. Juleka grinned and sent her a thumbs-up. The stylist was laughing.

“Glad you girls approve,” she said. She nodded at Marinette. “I’ll be at the counter when you’re ready.”

Marinette thanked her, but her eyes were still directed at the floor. She reached up as Rose continued to flail, her hand fluttering uselessly when she went to tug on a pigtail that was no longer there. She ended up putting her hand on the back of her neck instead, rubbing nervously. Rose tugged her over to Juleka, still bouncing.

“Juleka! Juleka! Tell her she looks amazing!” Rose squealed. Marinette looked up at her from under her lashes, and Juleka grinned before lightly punching her shoulder.

“Totally hot,” she said. “Luka’s going to lose his shit.”

_That_ seemed to get her attention. Rose was giggling, her fists pressed tight against her mouth to hide her smile as she nodded enthusiastically. Marinette reached for her pigtails again, tugging on her much shorter hair when the pigtails still came up missing.

“I-I…that’s not…I mean…do you think…” she stammered, and Juleka snickered as she grabbed a blue jar of Punked Out (their preferred brand) and waved it teasingly in front of her.

“You really wanna make him lose his mind…this is the color he uses,” she teased. Marinette’s eyes snapped up, zeroing in on the jar, and her face turned a few shades darker. Juleka continued smirking at her as she finally crossed her arms over her chest and turned her head.

“I-I’m not doing this to impress your brother!” she said – a little louder than she’d intended, judging by the way she winced. She immediately reached up again, her hand almost spasming before she folded her arms back over her chest. “I mean, yeah, it’d be nice if Luka liked it, but only because it would be nice if _everyone_ liked it, you know, because it’s my hair and my look and I would hope it’s not totally awful but _I like it_ and that’s what’s important and –”

“Marinette!” Rose cried, hugging her again and squeezing her shoulders. Marinette’s ramble cut off with a squeak, and Juleka snickered as she reached out and ruffled Marinette’s hair.

…oh. That was fun. She especially liked the way Marinette was now pouting at her.

“Relax, Mari,” she said, flicking her forehead for good measure. “I get it. And you look _great_ , and you’re right. All that matters is that _you_ like it. But…”

She dropped the jar of blue back on the shelf, snatching up the Flamingo Pink and the box of bleach they’d be using instead. Rose scarpered off to fetch the colors she had settled on (only four, thankfully), and Juleka dropped an arm around Marinette’s shoulders before steering her to the counter.

“…if it matters – and not that it does – my brother is going to lose his damn mind when he sees you,” she said, winking at her. “And I cannot wait.”

From the smile on Marinette’s face when she looked back at their feet, Juleka was pretty sure she was excited to see his reaction, too.

– V –

Luka looked up as he heard Ivan shouting above deck. He checked his phone when it buzzed – a message from Juleka to _get your ass up here so we can start_ – and rolled his eyes before stashing it back in his pocket. She was being so _weird_ today.

First had been that weird text uninviting Dingo to Dye Night. Then had been the incident at the steps, where she had reminded Dingo in no uncertain terms that he was absolutely Not Allowed to stay. She’d also told Brielle that, when Rose asked her, she wasn’t allowed to come, either. Brielle had reminded her she wouldn’t have anyway, but Dingo had thrown an absolute _fit_ over not being invited but Rose wanting to invite Bri, and he’d only shut up when Brielle had agreed to go over to his place and help him instead. Luka had tried to tell her Dingo was just a baby and didn’t really _need_ help, considering he wasn’t doing anything fancy like streaks or tips, but Dingo had proceeded to clap a hand over his mouth and gratefully accept her offer. Marinette and Rose had shown up then, and then Juleka was shoving them towards the street and telling Luka they’d see him at practice.

…before he’d even gotten to say hi.

And then she’d spent the past hour texting him random photos of hair dye, all in various shades of pink. He’d thought she was asking for Rose at first – until he remembered Rose was adamant about going purple to match Juleka. So he figured it was for this mystery friend that would be joining them, except Juleka still wouldn’t tell him who it was. The only clue she gave him was _in dark hair_ , which…wasn’t helpful at _all_ , because _pink_ and _dark hair_ had only made him think of Marinette, and the thought of Marinette with pink hair…

Well. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d entertained the idea. He just didn’t think she’d ever actually do it.

His phone buzzed again as he shouldered the door to the upper deck open, his arms full of the water bottles he’d gone below to retrieve.

“All right, Jules!” he called, kicking the door closed behind him. “I got…”

He froze when he turned towards the stage and saw the band. More specifically, who was with the band. His eyes widened, and he was dimly aware of a clattering as the water bottles fell from his arms – and _shit_ , one of those bottles had fallen on his foot. He was pretty sure Juleka and Rose were snickering at him. Mylène definitely had a knowing little smile on her face. Ivan hadn’t even noticed him. And Marinette…

…Marinette was…well, Marinette was _always_ gorgeous. Stunning. The most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on and was certain he ever would. That hadn’t changed. But she had. Sort of. No, definitely. She had _really_ changed. Her hair had changed, at least. Her bangs still covered her forehead, though there was a slight part to them – but he could also see the shine of product holding that part in place, so he was fairly certain it wouldn’t last past washing? But the rest of it. The rest of her hair. It was…gone. The silky black locks curled around her ears in a cut similar to Rose’s, but it was a bit fuller with more bounce. The pigtails were… _gone_. She shook her head as Ivan spoke, and they both laughed as it swished around her ears. He could see the shine of the black studs she always wore, but her hair was more…tapered. The longer bangs were gone, cut to frame her face and…

…shit. He was staring. Like a damn fish. And she had just noticed.

“Luka!” she called, and he shook his head stupidly. His mouth was suddenly very dry, and that was about when he realized it was because his mouth had been hanging open. And still was. Like an idiot. He snapped it shut and raised a hand to wave. Her head tilted to the side, and _oh my God could she be any cuter?_ “Are you…are you ok?”

“Huh?” he asked, but she was already crossing the deck and bending to pick up the bottles that were rolling away from him. He jerked into motion, dropping to his knees to help her gather the bottles and stumbling out a hundred hurried apologies. Her laugh made him look up, and he froze again as he realized she was…right in front of him. So close he could count every freckle dusted across her nose and cheeks. He could practically feel her lashes when she blinked. Her breath fanned across his face, carrying with it the scent of…berries?

Had she always smelled like berries?

“…ka?” he heard, and he blinked slowly as his eyes drifted to her mouth. Her lips were moving, or they had been. No…they were pursed together. She was frowning. Why was she frowning? A beautiful girl like her should never frown… “Luka?”

“Sorry!” he cried, leaning back and shaking his head. He chuckled, though it sounded a little strangled in his ears. He hoped she hadn’t noticed that. (From how Rose was screaming into the cushion Juleka had slammed onto her face, _she_ had.) He took the bottles from her and stood, reaching out a hand to help her up. “Um. Yeah, there’s no way I can smoothly recover from this, is there?”

“Probably not,” she giggled. She took half the bottles from him and smiled. “Are you ok? What happened there, anyway?”

_I was literally struck stupid by the prettiest girl to ever step foot on this boat,_ he thought, but he just shrugged and laughed.

“Uh, the sun…er…hit some of the equipment, and…blinded me,” he said. He mentally cringed. That was…God, what was wrong with him? No way she was going to buy that. No way –

“Shame Dingo didn’t come, then,” she giggled. She leaned in, winking up at him, and he was lost all over again. “You could have borrowed his sunglasses and saved yourself the trouble. Is your foot ok?”

“It’s perfect…” he sighed. She cocked her head again, and he winced. “I mean…uh…yeah. It’s fine. I…uh…I like the haircut, by the way. You look great.”

“Hey, Romeo!” Juleka called. His eyes snapped over Marinette’s head to glare at his sister. “Can we start practice now? Ivan’s got to sleep tonight, and we still have to bleach Mari’s hair!”

“Bleach…wait, _you’re_ the friend staying for Dye Night?” he asked, looking back at her. She tucked some hair behind her ear, or tried to – it wasn’t quite long enough in the right places to do that anymore, so the hair just ended up falling back into place. It took everything he had in him not to reach out and try to move it for her.

“Surprise?” she laughed weakly. She shrugged and bumped her elbow into his side, nudging him towards the stage. “I just felt like it was time for a change. Fresh start. I mean, I have so many friends with dyed hair, and it looks like fun, so…I thought I’d try some pink streaks?”

“That would look amazing,” Luka said. He winced, dropping the bottles he was carrying into a cooler they kept by the stage. “That didn’t come out right. It already looks amazing. It looked amazing before. It’ll just look good dyed, too.”

Now even Ivan was snickering, and he grabbed a fistful of ice from the cooler to chuck at their friends.

“Ok, why aren’t any of you stopping me? God, I am so sorry, Marinette,” he groaned, rubbing a hand along his face. “Please ignore the Moron coming out.”

“It’s cute, Luka,” Mylène said. Rose nodded fervently as she bounced over to the mic.

“Yeah, you two –” she started, but Juleka slapped the back of her head as she crossed behind her. “I mean, who hasn’t been struck dumb by a pretty girl every now and then?”

“…kill me now,” Luka groaned. When he looked back at Marinette, she was biting her lip and tugging on a strand of hair, much like she usually tugged on her pigtails.

“…you think I’m pretty?” she asked, glancing up at him from under her lashes.

…was she actively trying to kill him?

“I-it’s pretty! You think IT’S pretty! My hair? I mean…you like it? The new cut?” she asked quickly, the words tumbling from her mouth as a look of growing horror came upon her face. She winced and waved her hands, shaking her head. “N-no, of course you do! You said it looked amazing! Great! I mean good! I mean…God, somebody stop me…”

Luka found himself laughing, and he laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. She glanced up at him, her face red, and he smiled.

“I love the cut, and I’m glad you’re sticking around tonight,” he said. He squeezed her shoulder again before letting go. He grabbed his guitar and slid the strap over his shoulder, grinning at her as he strummed a few chords to make sure it was in tune. “It’s gonna look great, Mari.”

She smiled shyly at him, but then Juleka was telling Ivan to count them in and the boat exploded in sound. Marinette grabbed a seat by Mylène, and Luka forced himself to look down at his guitar. To watch his fingers dance over the strings instead of the beautiful girl on the crates across from him. To get lost in the music instead of her eyes.

…he knew she didn’t like Adrien anymore. They’d talked a lot about her old crush over the summer, and he knew she had put that part of her life behind her. And while part of him had hoped…but she hadn’t said anything, and he didn’t want to push her if she wasn’t ready. And she hadn’t seemed ready, even if all of their friends seemed to think she was. Even if they all continuously dropped not-so-subtle hints about how he just needed to make a move already. Even if…even if there were times where she seemed to flirt back. It was just banter. The same kind of friendly banter he had with Rose, or Ivan, or…they were friends. It’s what friends did. So yeah, he could tell her she was pretty and that he loved her new haircut, but beyond that…

“…dumpster-diving in my heart – yeah, you’re tearing me apaaaaaaaart!” Rose screamed into the mic, and he took a breath, closed his eyes, and launched into his solo.

He had to get his act together.

There was no way he was going to survive an entire night around Marinette Dupain-Cheng if he didn’t.

So with one last steadying breath, Luka allowed the music to wash over him.

“Yeah, you’re toxiiiiiiic!!!!”

– V –

Across the deck, Marinette had pulled up a crate next to Mylène. The two had fallen into an easy conversation, catching up over life and school now that they didn’t see each other every day. Mylène was filling her in on the job Ivan had started towards the end of the last school year. He’d started at a local HVAC business, and while he wasn’t actually allowed on any of the job sites yet because of his age his bosses were very impressed with the work he’d been doing in the office and around the warehouse.

“He’s been taking as many hours as they’ll give him. He has to work this weekend, too, and we wanted to grab dinner before he has to get home,” Mylène said. She looked over at her boyfriend, a warm smile on her face. “He’s been working really hard lately. His bosses love him, and they’re already talking about giving him an apprenticeship once he’s old enough.”

“That’s great, Mylène!” Marinette said.

“We haven’t been able to spend as much time together outside of practice, now that we’re going to different schools and we’re both working,” she continued, “so we take the time where we can get it.”

“I really do miss being in the same class as everyone,” Marinette sighed. She looked up at the sky, already growing dark in the early autumn night. “I’m glad Rose, Juleka, and Nathaniel are still with me, and I’ve made some great friends –”

“And you have Luka,” Mylène giggled, and Marinette felt her cheeks warm again. Just when she had managed to _stop_ blushing…

“Y-yeah, Luka’s there, too…which is nice…” Marinette stumbled. She peeked back at him, her heart skipping a beat as she watched him play. “And Brielle’s been really cool. And Dingo is…”

“…Dingo,” Mylène giggled, and they shared a smile at that. “He was actually here earlier. He was trying to convince Luka to let him stay for Dye Night, but apparently Juleka said no.”

Marinette’s eyes narrowed, a creeping sense of suspicion stealing over her. Her _Ladybug Sense_ was tingling.

“Wait…so Juleka told Dingo he couldn’t come?” she asked, looking away from the band (or, really, from Luka) to face her friend. Her fingers tapped along to the beat against her cheek, the only sign she was still listening to the rehearsal. Mylène nodded. “And you’re not staying, either. Because Ivan’s working.”

“Ivan’s stayed for a couple, but I have my hair done at my aunt’s salon,” Mylène said. She winced and tugged on a pink dread. “It’s too much work to do at home. At least more than I trust myself with.”

“…so you two were never staying anyway,” Marinette said. Mylène nodded again, and Marinette’s frown deepened. “Which makes me wonder if they even asked Brielle like Rose said she would…”

“Dingo did said Brielle would be helping him since he was _uninvited_ ,” Mylène said, tapping her foot against the deck as she looked up. “So she probably wasn’t coming either, no.”

Marinette turned back to the band just as the song ended, her look turning a bit more annoyed than confused, and called, “Hey, Couffaine!”

Both Juleka and Luka looked up at her shout, but the middle finger she lifted was aimed solely at Juleka. Ivan busted up laughing, but Juleka just winked and blew her a kiss. Rose giggled into the mic before calling the next song, and Ivan tapped them in before any more could be said. Mylène was laughing so hard tears were in her eyes.

“…you really have just become a Boat Kid, huh?” she asked. Marinette grinned and looked back to the band. Luka was giving her a questioning look, but she just winked at him. He grinned before looking back at his guitar.

She told herself she was imagining the pink dusted over his cheeks.

– V –

The rest of practice was pretty uneventful. Marinette and Mylène continued to catch up, though eventually both had pulled out homework to work on. Ivan joined them during the break, though Luka had stayed by the stage to have what looked like a… _heated discussion_ with his sister and Rose. Marinette had tried not to focus on them too much, but she kept seeing Luka’s eyes dart over to her, and somehow she knew they were talking about her.

She had doubted, for a moment, that Luka actually wanted her to stay, but then Rose was slapping the back of his head and whisper-shouting something that had turned him bright red, and the look he gave her when he looked up and caught her eye…

She was pretty sure he wouldn’t be smiling at her like that if he didn’t want her to stay.

They went for about another half hour after the break, and then Mylène and Ivan were heading out for the night. Marinette was waving after them when a hand landed on her shoulder, and she jumped and turned to find Rose grinning at her, the box of bleach they’d bought earlier in her hand.

“Ready to do this, Marinette?” she chirped. Marinette caught Luka’s eye over Rose’s shoulder. He had paused, halfway to taking the cooler of water below deck, when his eyes narrowed on the box. He pushed the cooler into Juleka’s arms and walked over, plucking the box out of Rose’s fingers. “Hey!”

“No way,” he said, shaking his head firmly. At Rose’s pout, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Rose. Jules can do _your_ tips, but who do you think taught her? I’ve got this.”

“But –” Rose started, but Luka had already placed a hand on Marinette’s shoulder and was guiding her towards the door.

“You two pick a movie – I’ve got this!” he called. Marinette grinned when she looked back and saw Rose blowing a raspberry their way. Luka squeezed her shoulder and let go, reaching for the door. “Sorry, but considering Rose hasn’t actually done this before…I thought you’d appreciate the help of someone with more experience.”

“Probably best. That is why I accepted Juleka’s invitation, after all,” she said, reaching up to tug on a strand of hair again. He chuckled at the familiar gesture. She winced and dropped her hand, rubbing at her elbow. “…that’s gonna take some getting used to.”

“Eh, about the same as switching from glasses to contacts, or Lasik,” he said with a shrug, following her down the steps. “You’ll get used to it eventually. I really do love how it looks, by the way. In case I didn’t…ah…make that painfully obvious earlier.”

She knew she was blushing again, but she had long ago accepted that that was just a constant state of being around Luka. He unsettled her, but in a pleasant way. Not a Why-Is-Love-So-Hard, Kill-Me-Now, Going-To-Die-Of-Embarrassment way. In a I-Like-Being-Unsettled-By-You way.

“…don’t laugh,” she said, and he chuckled as he shook his head.

“No promises,” he said, and she lightly slapped his arm.

“It’s just…I was afraid you wouldn’t,” she confessed. She huffed out a breath at his surprised look. “Which is _dumb_ , because I got this haircut for _me_. I’m doing this for _me_. But…I still wanted you to like it? I guess I was afraid…it’s just _everyone_ loves my hair down, so I thought if I went too short…I just didn’t want to freak you out. I didn’t want you to hate it. Or –”

“Hey,” he said reaching for her shoulder again. She pulled her lip between her teeth, and he gave her a lopsided smile when he saw the nervous tick. “Marinette, it’s just hair. It grows back. Dye fades. Whatever you want to do here, it’s not permanent. And I would hope I’m not superficial enough to hate you over _hair_.”

Her smile was hesitant, and he closed his eyes and sighed as he opened the door to the cabin he shared with Juleka. Like he could ever hate her anyway, especially over something like hair. He cracked an eye open as she walked past him, grinning at her.

“Besides, if I was going to hate you, it would have to be over something _important_ ,” he said. He leaned in close to her ear, close enough that his breath tickled the fine hairs there. “Like how you don’t like pineapple on your pizza.”

She tripped over the lip of the door with a squawk, and he laughed as he reached out to catch her. They were both laughing, though, so he figured she hadn’t seriously hurt herself. She looked up at him and stuck her tongue out, which…wasn’t fair, when she was that close and he was still holding her.

“Pineapple on pizza is _disgusting_ , and one day I _will_ convince you of that,” she said.

He couldn’t help it.

He had to.

He bent down, pressing a soft, quick kiss to her forehead.

“Boat Kid,” he said, winking at her. She was staring at him like she wanted him to kiss her again, and maybe not on her forehead next time. He forced his smile a bit wider and nudged her, guiding her to Juleka’s vanity. “You know we thrive on chaos. I’ll take pineapple on my pizza to my grave if for no other reason than how angry it makes people.”

“I’ll make sure it’s the only meal served at your wake,” she sniffed, sitting down when he pulled Juleka’s chair out for her. He grinned at her in the mirror.

“…you really sticking around that long?” he asked. There was something weird going on with his voice, as if he was trying to keep his tone light and joking but…she didn’t want to look too much into it. It was just Luka. He was just joking around with her, like he always did. He was… “My seanair is almost one hundred and six. Couffaines live a long time, Ma-Ma-Marinette.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest, but when she caught his eye in the mirror he just winked at her and tugged on a strand of hair. Her eyes darted back to the hands she had fisted in her lap, thinking maybe one hundred and six didn’t sound so bad. Before the moment could get too awkward he was putting the box of bleach on the vanity.

“Here,” he said, tapping the box. “Get this open. I’m going to get you a shirt.”

“…I have a shirt,” she said, frowning as she reached for the box.

“I’m assuming you actually like that shirt, though,” he said. At her confused look, he nodded at her hair. “This process tends to get messy. Always wear an old shirt you don’t care about ruining.”

Her eyes widened in realization, and he chuckled as he went to his bed to rifle through the extra shirts he kept in the drawers beneath it.

“You know, it’s silly,” she said, and he hummed to acknowledge he’d heard her. He could hear her unpacking the box behind him. “I remembered to grab everything else I’d need for a sleepover, but I didn’t even think about bringing an extra shirt for the dye. Of course Juleka didn’t say anything – she’s such a…”

His hand stilled over an old shirt he had probably outgrown two summers ago. Sleepover? Sleepover. As in…sleeping. Over. Over here. At the boat. With them. Logically, he knew he shouldn’t be surprised. Dye Night usually ran late (especially when their group got large), and they usually made a sleepover of it when Ivan or Dingo joined in. He knew Rose was planning on staying the night. It also wasn’t the first time Marinette had stayed over with the other girls. So there was nothing new here. Nothing that should cause his brain to be short-circuiting like it was.

“…ka? Luka?” she called, and he shook his head to clear it.

If he made it to morning without completely humiliating himself, he was going to owe whatever higher power was watching out for him _big._

“Sorry, what was that?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at her. She giggled and waved one of the bottles at him.

“Do you want me to mix this up?” she asked. He grabbed the shirt he’d been considering and stood, shaking his head. He tossed the shirt her way and took the bottle.

“Nah, I can do this,” he said. “You go change.”

She hesitated a moment, looking like she had more to say, but she just shook her head and disappeared down the hall. When she was gone, he slumped forward, gripping the edges of the vanity hard enough his knuckles blanched.

“Give me strength,” he muttered, taking a few deep breaths to clear his head. He scanned the directions to familiarize himself with the brand (it was one they’d used before, but it had been a while), donned the gloves, and started mixing the bleach. He took another breath as he started shaking the bottle.

This was stupid. Juleka was right: _he_ was stupid. It was just Marinette. Marinette was a close friend. And even if he was still stupid in love with her, that didn’t mean she was stupid in love with him. And he respected that. Valued it. Cherished it, because Marinette was an amazing girl and anyone she gifted the title of friend to was lucky, and at least she considered him a friend. He was lucky. He couldn’t let something stupid like _feelings_ mess that up.

It had been getting harder, though. The more she was around. The closer they got. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want more, but he knew she didn’t. And he refused to jeopardize what they had just because he had to be stupid. He could get through tonight. He could help her with her hair, and they’d laugh and joke like it was any other day, and in the morning she’d probably head back home or out with Juleka and Rose like she wasn’t taking his heart with her. And he’d wave her off with a fond farewell like he didn’t wish he was keeping hers in return.

He stopped shaking the bottle and waited for it to settle to check the mix. He could do this. He could be Marinette’s friend. He wouldn’t screw this up. He…

“Ok! Let’s do this!”

He jumped at Marinette’s voice, nearly throwing the bottle at the mirror. He turned towards her and realized he was screwed and there was no way he was making it through the night unscathed. His shirt – an old band shirt that had rips in the hem and had the sleeves torn off – was still big on her, but she’d tied it around her waist to shorten it. The knot wasn’t high, but it still showed just enough of her stomach to be distracting. She moved past him, oblivious to the state of constant turmoil she’d seemed to land him in that night, and plopped down in Juleka’s chair. She looked up at him, and her smile was bright enough to lose him all over again.

“So…how do we do this?” she asked.

How do they do this? He was pretty sure he was supposed to take her to dinner, or they were supposed to track down André and his infamous _Sweetheart Ice Cream_ (what was it with her friends and that guy?), or at the least catch a movie together. He probably had to meet her parents in an official capacity, and spend too many evenings above the bakery for family dinners and video game matches. That was how the _this_ usually worked, and it usually preceded the makeouts and desperate kissing and hands pulling his shirt over her head because _holy shit she was wearing his shirt_ …

…except she was just wearing his shirt because she’d forgotten an extra of her own, and there were no ulterior motives or heavy implications found in her wearing his shirt because it was just a shirt. Just…his shirt. And they were just friends.

He shook his head and smiled, tapping his finger against her nose. He had to do _something_ with his hands. God, he needed his guitar. He needed to work off this nervous energy. She scrunched her face in reply, and he chuckled.

“ _We_ don’t do anything – you just sit there looking pretty while I do all the work,” he said. Her cheeks darkened again, but she was smiling as she looked into the mirror. He poured the mixed bleach into a small bowl and stirred it with a brush. “Ok. How do you want this to look?”

She handed him her sketchbook, and his eyes widened as she pointed to a specific drawing. He hadn’t even realized she’d grabbed it.

“I was thinking something like this,” she said, tapping the page. Pink pencil colored in the bangs, following the tapering along the model’s blank face. He nodded. It was simple enough. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s going to look amazing,” he said, propping the sketchbook against the mirror to use as a guide. He turned the chair towards him, returning her smile when she grinned up at him. “Not gonna lie, Mari, I’ve wondered what you’d look like with your own color.”

“Really?” she asked as he got to work. He hummed, painting the bleach onto her hair. It wasn’t as effective as his guitar, but it was enough to relieve some of the nervous tick. His hands were steady enough that she didn’t seem to notice how off-balance she had him, at least.

“It’s kinda the norm around here, if you haven’t noticed,” he said with a little shrug. A wry little grin curled his lips. “Color me curious.”

“You just want me to be a Boat Kid,” she teased, sticking her tongue out at him. He tried to ignore the way her words made his heart flutter in his chest. She wasn’t wrong. “Mylène was teasing me about that earlier when I flipped Juleka off.”

“We’re a horrible influence on you,” he snorted, recalling the moment. Seeing her there, sitting tall (er, _-ish_ ) and proud with her middle finger raised in defiance like she belonged there (she did), had unsettled him enough he’d almost flubbed his next chord. “I’m so proud.”

“Jerk,” she chided, poking at his stomach when he reached for more bleach. His lips quirked in another smile, and he tugged on the next bit of hair he’d be painting.

“What made you make the jump, anyway?” he asked. When she hummed in confusion, he nodded towards her hair. “The haircut. Dying it. You’ve been sporting the pigtails a while. Longer than I’ve known you, anyway.”

He wasn’t sure if she’d answer at first. Her eyes went back to her lap, and her teeth started worrying her lip. She seemed to be seriously considering her answer, and he almost regretted asking. He didn’t want her to share if it made her uncomfortable. By the time she seemed to sort out what she wanted to say, he was almost done with the bleach.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Cutting my hair. But…I don’t know. It just seemed…I got comfortable with it, I guess? The long hair. The pigtails. It was part of who I was for so long,” she sighed. He paused, a strand of hair extended with the brush halfway down.

“And it’s not anymore?” he asked. “Who you are?”

“It seems silly when you put it like that,” she said with a little laugh. “It’s just…a lot has happened this past year. The past few years. I don’t really feel like the same person anymore, if that makes sense? But I still looked the same. I didn’t want to look the same anymore, and changing my hair seemed easier than…I don’t know, getting a tattoo or having something pierced. Does that make sense? Sorry. I feel like I’m not making sense.”

“No, it…it makes sense,” he said, coughing a little. He actively tried to ignore the mental image of Marinette pierced and inked and… “Your hair can tell a lot about you. At the end of the day it’s just hair, but people kind of identify you by it, too. You’ve had pigtails forever, but you don’t feel like Pigtail Girl anymore.”

“Exactly,” she said, nodding. He put the brush back in the bowl and stepped back, tilting his head as he considered her. He glanced back at the sketchbook, as much to double-check his work as to avoid the look she was giving him. That look was dangerous. “So I thought…it just felt like it was time for a change. A fresh start.”

He hummed but didn’t immediately answer. He pulled his phone out to set the timer, but she was still watching him like…

“I’m ready for something new,” she said softly. Her voice was barely above a whisper, and for a moment he thought he hadn’t heard her right. He couldn’t have. She couldn’t have…she had to mean…but she was still watching him with her lip pulled between her teeth, a light blush on her cheeks and her hands fisted in her lap. There was a look in her eyes he was almost scared to name, one that had his heart beating just a little bit faster. He felt himself swallowing, felt himself fidgeting with his phone. He was aware of these little details, but the moment felt frozen.

He was afraid to speak. To put the phone down and reach for her. He was afraid he was misunderstanding her. He was afraid…

“Hey! Dumbass! She doesn’t have any hair left – what’s taking so long?!”

They both jumped at Juleka’s shout, his phone flying out of his hands and landing on her lap. Those dangerous eyes were back on her hands, fumbling with his phone as she laughed nervously, and he felt like he could breathe again with her gaze off him.

“We’re done!” he called, going to rub the back of his neck but stopping when he remembered the gloves still on his hands. Juleka called for them to hurry up again, and he laughed a little as he looked back at Marinette. She was still looking at her lap. “So. Um. I set the timer. Forty-five minutes, then you’re gonna wash it out and use the shampoo and conditioner that came with it. Once it’s dry we’ll get the pink in.”

“R-right,” she said, fidgeting with his phone another moment before handing it back to him. He shook his head and nodded towards the door.

“Go on,” he said. “Keep it with you for the timer. I’ll clean up here and join you guys in a minute.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. His lips quirked in a wry little smile.

“I…I need a minute,” he said. She frowned, but she didn’t press. He helped her up, squeezing her hands a little before sending her on her way. When she was gone, he turned to the wall and thumped his head next to the porthole. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself, but when he opened his eyes and saw the faceless models of her sketchbook staring back at him his breath caught again. All he could think about were her eyes, staring up at him like…

_“I’m ready for something new.”_

He closed his eyes and thumped his head back on the wall.

…what the hell were they even doing?


	2. Punky Colors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smurfs are murdered, discussions are had, and at the end of the day (or the beginning of the next) Marinette gains a...dork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, for our thrilling conclusion…! (Or: “Word minimum what’s a MINIMUM?”)

What.

The.

HELL.

Marinette had managed to make it out of Luka’s cabin without tripping over the door or her feet. She had stopped on the other side, his phone clutched in a death grip in her hands, as she stared blindly ahead. What was what? What had she just done? Said? Had she just told him she was…available? Ready? To move on? With him? Not in so many words, but words had never really been either of their strong points. She tended to use an abundance of them in a nonsensical order while he was just…more careful with them. They’d always understood each other like that. And she had definitely _meant_ she was ready, but did he understand that? He had looked at her like he had. Like he had hoped…he’d already told her long ago that he liked her. She was pretty sure she’d made it obvious she liked him back. But despite that, he’d never really brought it back up after the studio? And she knew that was her fault – he was being respectful of her feelings for Adrien. Except she didn’t have those feelings anymore. She –

“Marinette!”

She jumped, his phone almost flying from her hands at Rose’s voice. She juggled it for a couple seconds before resuming her death grip on the device. When she looked towards the couch, Juleka and Rose were both watching her with concerned amusement. Rose’s head was…interesting. It was parted in multiple places, spiked and pinned and tin foiled with at least four different colors peeking out amongst the chaos. Her blue eyes looked bigger with her hair slicked up like that.

“You ok?” Juleka asked. Rose nodded, still watching her with her eyes huge and full of concern.

“I…I…” she stammered, but then Luka was behind her nudging her forward.

“Ok, what are we watching?” he asked. His hand landed on her shoulder, squeezing lightly before sliding down her bare arm a little. That in itself was…jarring. She was used to his shoulder touches, but he had always been respectful before. He’d always kept his hand to _just_ her shoulder. To rub her arm like that, like he’d understood her and was trying to tell her he also wanted more…God, she was being _stupid_. She was reading too much into this. She had messed everything up, and a shoulder touch was just a shoulder touch, and of course he didn’t realize what she’d been saying and he didn’t mean anything more by… “You ok, Mari? Usually movies are better on the couch.”

“Right! Sorry!” she yelped. A high-pitched, nervous laugh escaped her, and she winced as his hand squeezed her…her arm. Because it was still on her arm, not her shoulder. She couldn’t look at him. If she looked at him…she could barely look at Juleka and Rose. They were both smirking at each other like they knew what had happened – which was _stupid_ , because _nothing had happened, anyway!_ She jerked away from Luka and rushed over to the couch, dropping down next to Rose. “Ok! What’s the movie?”

“ _The Nun_ ,” Rose said with a giggle. She frowned at that, the title throwing her enough that she didn’t react when Luka sat down beside her and laid his arm on the back of the couch. Behind her. Practically around her shoulders. In a very _boyfriend_ move.

“ _The Nun?_ Why do I know that title?” Marinette asked. Juleka smirked as she reached for the remote.

“It’s a documentary on an old Romanian church,” she said, but Luka was reaching around her to snatch the remote from her hand before she could start the movie. Marinette heard her yell in protest, but she was suddenly too distracted by the way Luka was suddenly pressed against her and practically in her lap. She was pretty sure she was going to crack his phone if she didn’t ease up on it soon.

“Oh, hell no,” he said, not even noticing her mini meltdown. He sat back, and while she could breathe again she still felt like her heart was racing. Even worse, Rose was still grinning at her. “It is _not_ a documentary, and you know it!”

“It’s based on a true story,” Juleka said dismissively. “Close enough.”

“It’s a horror movie based on a demon that haunted a church,” he said. “No. Pick something _everyone_ will like.”

“Wait, what?” Marinette asked, distracted enough to finally look at Luka. She froze again when she realized how close he still was. His eyes shifted to her, and they widened a little as he seemed to realize it, too.

“You’re both just wimps,” Juleka grumbled, but she was already grabbing the remote and scanning for another movie. “Besides, you should be _thanking_ me, dear brother. You were one jump scare away from a lapful of Marinette.”

…she was going to kill her. From the way Luka’s eyes had shot open – and from the heat she could feel coming off his face – she was pretty sure he was, too. He snapped his head away from her and glared at Juleka, ready to chew her out, but Rose was already scolding her. Marinette jumped up, dropping his phone onto the crate they used as a coffee table in the process.

“SNACKS WHO WANTS?!” she shouted, and they all paused to look at her. “I-I mean, yeah! Snacks! Drinks? T-totally forgot you can’t have a movie without popcorn! I’ll be…I’m…yeah!”

She was lucky she had the presence of mind to side-step Luka’s legs as she scrambled past him. She sprinted to the galley, which really wasn’t far enough away on the not-tiny-but-smaller-than-say-her-house boat, and immediately dropped below the counter to search for the popcorn bowl. She could hear Juleka and Luka by the couch, their voices low but clearly angry, and closed her eyes as she tried to just breathe.

This had been a _horrible_ idea. What was she thinking? What was _Juleka_ thinking? She couldn’t just _say_ things like that! Not when Luka was _right there_ , and –

She jumped as Rose dropped down beside her, her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Are you ok?” she whispered, glancing at Marinette’s hands. Marinette followed her gaze to find her hands were gripping the cabinet doors hard enough that her knuckles were white. She tried to relax her grip, but her hands weren’t listening to her. She shook her head instead. “I’m sorry. You know Juleka means well, but…”

“…I like him, Rose,” she whispered. It said a lot that Rose didn’t immediately start screeching. She just laid a hand over one of hers, her fingers coaxing it away from the cabinet to hold. “I really like him.”

“We know,” Rose said. “He really likes you, too, Mari.”

“…he _did_ ,” Marinette mumbled, but Rose shook her head.

“No, Mari,” she said. “He still does. Juleka’s just…giving him a hard time about it, like she always does, because he still hasn’t made a move. She wasn’t thinking.”

Rose winked at her and giggled.

“ _Really_ not thinking,” she tutted. “I told her a horror movie was a bad idea. Besides, like Luka would be able to enjoy cuddling when he’s too busy trying to hide himself.”

“Rose!” she hissed, and Rose winced.

“Sorry,” she said. Marinette groaned. She went to thunk her head against the cabinets, but at the last minute she remembered the bleach in her hair.

“I want to tell him,” she said. “I do. And I will. But… _I_ want to do it. No plots. No schemes. No outside interference. If he still likes me and we’re going to be together, it has to be on my… _our_ terms.”

Rose was smiling again, and Marinette narrowed her eyes at her.

“I mean it, Rose. Like inviting me to Dye Night, saying it’s a group thing, and then using it as an excuse to get us alone all night because suddenly everyone else in the group is _uninvited_ ,” Marinette said. Rose winced again, but she was still smiling as she nodded.

“Got it. No interfering,” she said. When Marinette continued to watch her, she held up a hand. “Scout’s honor!”

Marinette snorted, but Rose just giggled. Marinette sighed and looked back at the cabinet. She could still hear Luka whisper-shouting at Juleka.

She wondered if their conversation was going about as well as hers. If he was yelling at Juleka for the same reasons.

“…I really like him, Rose,” she said again. Rose let go of her hand, reaching up to turn her face towards her.

“So go tell him,” she said. “I’ll get the snacks. You go get your guy.”

Marinette smiled and nodded. Her face was still warm when she stood, a bowl and a bag of chips Rose had hastily shoved at her in her arms. She glanced over to the couch to see the siblings had apparently stopped fighting. Juleka was definitely pouting – or the Couffaine equivalent of pouting – as she flipped through the movie catalogue. Luka was leaning back against the couch, his arms stretched along the back and his head flopped back. His eyes were closed, and he looked like he was practicing some of his meditation breathing. She glanced down at Rose, and her friend gave her two thumbs up. Marinette sighed and shook the bag of chips, trying to be as loud as she could opening them. Juleka’s eyes darted over to her, but Luka didn’t react. She dumped the bag in the bowl and took a steadying breath.

She could do this.

She was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

She was _Ladybug_.

She fought bad guys on the daily and, professionally, was a rising name in her field.

She could tell a boy she liked him!

…especially when she knew he liked her back!

A moment later, she was back at the couch. Rose was whistling behind them as she popped some popcorn. Marinette nudged Luka’s legs with her knee, and he finally looked up. His eyebrows rose, but he didn’t say anything. She rolled her eyes and put the bowl onto the crates.

“You know, Juleka, you’re full of shit,” she finally huffed. Juleka sat up a little at that, her own eyebrows lifting up to her forehead. Before Luka could react, she dropped herself onto his lap. His breath left him in a whoosh, and she squirmed enough to press her back against his chest. When he continued to not react, she grabbed one of his arms and wrapped it around her waist. “If Luka wanted a lapful of me, all he had to do was ask.”

There was a moment of absolute silence.

Followed by several moments of anything but.

What she had actually said seemed to click in her mind the same time Juleka shouted, “Oh my _God_ , Marinette!” Rose was _squealing_ behind the counter, the fists she had pressed to her mouth doing nothing to muffle the sound. Luka sounded like he was choking at first, but he just pressed his forehead to the back of her shoulder and let out a whining groan. Marinette kept her eyes – which had grown wide and slightly terrified – locked on the TV, where Juleka had the screen paused on studio credits.

“I can’t believe you just said that,” Luka mumbled behind her. “Oh my God. Yes. Yes, please.”

When had his other arm wrapped around her? When had he started holding her so tightly? Her heart skip-flutter-jumped in her chest, and she wondered if he could hear it with how close he was.

“You are so gross,” Juleka cackled. “I cannot believe you. Disgusting. Get a fucking room.”

“Juleka!” Luka snapped, though it was muffled from her shoulder.

“Lay off, Jules,” Rose giggled, running over with the bowl of popcorn. She plopped down beside Juleka and threw a few kernels at her. “So what are we _actually_ watching?”

“Me murder my sister,” Luka groused. Marinette’s lips quirked in a little smile, and she found herself giggling. The giggling seemed to evaporate the tension, and then she was relaxing into Luka, which was…nice. It wasn’t the first time they had been this close, but there wasn’t a guitar distracting them this time. And this time had definitely been more… _intentional_ , at least on her part. She sighed and leaned her head against his, careful not to get the bleach on him. She didn’t even tense when he kissed her shoulder. And that…that was new. That was nice. She definitely liked that. “We need to talk. We _really_ need to talk, Mari.”

“…now?” she asked, but he shook his head. He took another deep breath before looking up, and she was surprised by the look on his face. He looked ridiculously happy. Stupid happy.

She wondered if she looked the same.

“Marinette, if we talk now, I’m going to get very distracted by kissing you,” he said softly. Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening. He squeezed her middle, tilting his head towards her and looking at her like… “Very distracted. For a very long time. And we don’t have a very long time just yet, and…we need that stuff out of your hair first. But we are definitely talking tonight.”

“…and kissing,” she said, and the little, whining noise he made had her heart skip-fluttering again. There had been a lot of _we_ -s in that statement, and she found she liked thinking of them as a _We_. She bit her lip, and he made that noise again. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a while, Luka.”

“You’re killing me, Mari,” he said. She giggled, then laughed harder when someone – probably Juleka – chucked some popcorn at them. Luka lifted an arm from her to flip his sister off, and Marinette giggled again as she settled against him. His arm was back in place a moment later, and Juleka was starting the movie a moment after that.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, though Marinette would not for the life of her be able to tell you what they were watching or what it was about. Rose and Juleka were sitting on the other side of the couch, sharing their popcorn, but the chips remained untouched on the crate. Marinette was much more preoccupied with the feeling of Luka’s arms around her, of his chest warm and firm against her back. She’d rested her arms over his, and his thumb was reaching up to brush against her skin. His face was still pressed against her shoulder, his breath tickling her neck She wasn’t even sure if he was watching the movie by that point, either. He’d probably be as hard-pressed to give a title or description as she would.

But it was nice. She’d sat close to Luka before, but never this close. He’d hugged her before, but he’d never just…held her like this. Just for the sake of holding her, just because he could. She knew, if she wasn’t careful, she would get entirely too used to it, but then he was humming a familiar song (low enough that only she could really hear it) and she realized she was ok with that. She wanted to get used to him. She was pretty sure he wanted to get used to her, too.

By the time the alarm on his phone went off, she had almost forgotten they’d set it. He sighed and squeezed her before letting her go, and it amazed her how much it felt like a loss. Her hand dropped to his knee as she reached for the phone, and she told herself it was only to keep her balance. Just like he’d only kept his hand on her waist to steady her. She handed him his phone to silence it.

“Ok, go wash it out,” he said as Juleka paused the movie. “Use the packets that came with it to seal it in, and once you’re dry we’ll get the pink in. Jules, you want to get your dye in while she’s rinsing?”

“Might as well,” Juleka said. She nudged Rose. “Ok, Manic Unicorn, get up.”

“But you’re so comfy!” Rose whined. She turned to Marinette with a grin. “Aren’t Couffaines the comfiest, Mari?”

“Th-they’re pretty good,” Marinette mumbled, her face warming as Luka squeezed her hip. She caught his eye, and she couldn’t stop the stupid grin from splitting her face. “I’m pretty happy with mine.”

His smile – open and warm and _hers_ – was quickly becoming her new favorite thing.

“…go wash that out before you scorch your scalp,” he said. “Keep saying things like that and I’m not going to let you go.”

“I think she’d be ok with that,” Juleka snorted. Marinette’s head whipped in her direction, but Juleka was already cackling as she raced into their cabin. Marinette pushed off of Luka, leaving him laughing as she chased after his sister.

That laugh was quickly becoming her _second_ favorite thing.

– V –

Marinette tried to keep herself from overthinking things in the shower. She was happy – stupid happy – and she wanted to stay that way. Luka might not have come out and said he liked her or wanted to date her, but he _had_ said they needed to talk. And that kissing would probably – _definitely_ – come with the talking. And you didn’t usually kiss someone you weren’t interested in dating, right? So she wasn’t going to overthink it and psych herself out. She was going to wash the bleach out, and use the shampoo and conditioner, and get back out there to cuddle with her Couffaine while they watched…

…she really wasn’t even sure what they were watching. For all she knew, Juleka had just gone ahead and put _The Nun_ on. She honestly hadn’t been watching any of it so far.

When she stepped out of the shower and wrapped her towel around her, she took a moment to just…be. To feel. Her toes curled in the bright yellow shag carpet (that was stained in splatters with the remnants of dye jobs gone wrong), and she pulled her towel up to her mouth to press against the smile that was splitting her face. She jumped and did a little dance, pressing her lips together to muffle the excited giggle-squeal that was trying to come out.

Luka liked her.

_Luka liked her!_

…she had known that, of course. He had told her as much before. But there was a difference between knowing he had liked her _before_ and knowing he still liked her _now_.

She stopped jumping and stood there, rocking on her heels with her head tipped towards the ceiling. She lowered her head and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, her stomach flipping pleasantly at the sight.

She liked what she saw. Well. Mostly. She had a feeling she’d like it a lot better when the color was in. Her bangs were a dark brownish-gold color, but she trusted Juleka and Luka. Wet hair was usually dark, anyway. It would get lighter as it dried, and it would take the pink. But the girl staring at her beneath the hair…

She looked happy.

It had been a long time since that girl had looked so happy.

One of the others called to her from down the hall, and she told them she’d be out in a minute. She took one last look at herself in the mirror, brushing her hand back through her much shorter hair – and that was still going to take some getting used to, but she loved it – and grinning.

She was happy.

She was _really_ happy.

When she walked back into the common room a few minutes later, everyone else was back on the couch with the movie playing. Juleka and Luka had both put their dye in their hair, and Rose was snuggled up to Juleka’s side again. Luka was in the middle of taking a drink when she walked in, but he made the mistake of looking up at her as she walked over. His eyes went wide – _huge_ – and he choked on his drink. She rushed over and knelt on the couch beside him, clapping his back as he choked.

“Luka!” she cried. Juleka and Rose were both staring at him, but then Juleka started laughing and Rose was silently screaming into her hands. Marinette frowned at them, but she was more concerned with Luka. His face was almost as red as her Ladybug suit. “Are you ok? What just happened?”

“You broke him!” Juleka cackled. “Oh my God, I take back everything I ever said. I don’t care how gross you two are. This is _priceless_.”

“What? How did…what did I do?” Marinette asked, looking back at Luka. His hand had landed on her knee, squeezing as he took some deep breathes. She looked down at his hand, grasping by the hem of her…oh… _his_ shirt, on her, and her eyes widened in realization.

“Where’re your _pants_ , Marinette?” Juleka asked, her voice wheedling and sly, and Marinette was sure if she’d been mid-drink she’d be choking now, too. Her eyes shot up to see Juleka had leaned over Rose’s lap, her chin propped in her hand and a devilish little grin curling her lips. With her hair clipped up to keep the dyed bits off her face, both eyes watched Marinette with a twisted sort of glee.

…Marinette remembered she used to like Juleka, back when she was the quiet, shy girl on the outskirts of the class. She still liked her, most days, but getting closer to the Couffaines over the past year meant opening herself up to a quite frankly _wicked_ streak she wasn’t always glad to be on the receiving end of.

She felt the blush crawling up her neck as her gaze shot back to her lap. She hadn’t tied Luka’s shirt up when she’d thrown it back on. She was wearing a pair of sleep shorts underneath, but his shirt was still big on her and it…kinda looked…she groaned and bunched the ends in her hands, quickly tying a knot maybe a little higher on her stomach than was necessary. At least they could see her shorts now, though.

“There!” she huffed, lodging her fists on her hips and jutting them forward a little. Luka had covered his face with his hand, and he peeked out at her declaration – only to groan and slap his hand over his face again. “Pants! I am totally wearing pants! Happy?!”

“…I think Luka is,” Rose giggled, and Marinette groaned before she slumped against Luka’s side. Her hands fisted in his shirt – the one he was actually wearing, not the one she…

“I hate you both so much right now,” she whined, but that only made them laugh harder. She curled tighter against Luka, and his arm slipped around her waist to hold her closer. He turned his head, his nose brushing against her neck, and she sucked in a breath – only to be almost overwhelmed by the scent of…berries?

The scent was so strong. She raised her head a little, turning towards his own, and it just got stronger. It was coming from his hair. It smelled just like the lip gloss she’d started using over the summer – berries, but with a slight hint of citrus – and her heart flutter-skipped as she took another deep breath. It was Luka. Luka smelled like berries, and even without realizing it that must have been why she kept going back to the berry gloss. Because it smelled like Luka, and Luka made her happy, so the lip gloss made her happy, too. Her hand reached up without thinking, sinking into his hair – and then they both jerked back when she remembered the dye.

“Oh no – I am _so_ sorry!” she cried, her face falling as she saw the blue smeared over her hand. Luka was still staring at her face, though, his cheeks pink and a goofy little smile curling his lips. She was dimly aware of Juleka and Rose still snickering behind them, but that didn’t seem as important when Luka reached up to brush his thumb against her nose. It came away blue, too.

“My bad,” he said, chuckling. “See, this is why I said the talking needed to wait.”

She wanted to point out that they hadn’t even been talking, not really, but it seemed moot. Her face flushed, and he squeezed her waist before letting go.

“Come on,” he said, standing and offering her a hand. She took it with her clean one, and he helped her up. “Let’s go wash that off. Your hair’s short enough now, it should be dry. We can get the pink in, too.”

“R-right,” she said. He bent down and kissed her cheek, careful not to get any more blue on her as he did so.

“And maybe talk?” he whispered by her ear. She saw him glance back at Juleka and Rose, who were watching them more intently than the movie still playing in the background. “Without the peanut gallery over there?”

“Sounds good,” she said, biting down on her smile. He squeezed her hand and led her back towards his cabin, ignoring Rose’s whine and Juleka’s wolf-whistles. Marinette ducked her face against his arm, groaning a little. When they cleared the door and she pulled away, she winced when she saw another blue smear on his arm. He closed the door and looked back at her as she started rubbing at his skin, and he chuckled when he saw the spot.

“It’s ok,” he said. “We’ve got stuff to get it off.”

“But –” she started, but her words stuck in her throat when his hand was suddenly cradling her face, tilting her head up towards him. He chuckled and reached for her nose, tapping the blue smudge with his thumb. His hand felt kind of sticky against her jaw, and the scent of berries hit her again.

“Marinette, I need to tell you something, and I need to tell you now,” he said. She swallowed and nodded. She wondered if he could feel her pulse beneath his fingers, the way her heart had skip-jumped at his words. His thumb brushed beneath her eye, and a soft smile curled his lips.

“If you’re about to tell me you like me…” she said softly, when he continued to just stand there watching her, “I think I already know that. I think I like you, too, Luka, but I don’t think I’ve made it as clear as I could have.”

“Marinette,” he said, and the way he said her name set butterflies loose in her stomach. Like she was something precious, something to be cherished, something… “I don’t like you.”

… _what_.

“And if I did anything to make you think I _liked_ you, I’m sorry,” he continued. Marinette’s mouth dropped open. She felt like she’d just been sucker-punched, her stomach dropped to her feet – but it didn’t make sense! He wasn’t looking at her like someone who didn’t like her! He wasn’t touching her like someone who didn’t like her! He was…he was… “Mari, I moved past _like_ a long time ago. I’ve been –”

“Luka Couffaine,” she said sharply, her eyes narrowing into a glare. He blinked, the words dying on his tongue as she slapped his hand away. “I swear to God, if you’re about to tell me I’m _just a friend_ –”

“What? No, Marinette, I –” he started, but she was roughly poking him in the chest. With her dyed hand, leaving blue spots in her wake. His eyebrows soared as he looked down at that, his smile becoming more of a grin.

“Because you don’t act like that with _just a friend_ , and you said we had to _talk_ and that there’d be _kissing_ and –” she continued, and he reached up to try and catch her wrists. He was smiling again, the asshole, and she didn’t understand how he could _smile_ when she just wanted to _strangle him_ and –

“Mari, wait –” he said, but she had heard enough _waits_ and _stops_ to know where this was going.

“And I _like you_ , Luka! Boyfriend-like, not friend-like, and I thought you girlfriend-liked me, too, but –” she continued, but then his hands were on her face again and his mouth was on hers, and it was…honestly not what she’d expected their first kiss to be like, with her being mid-rant and how his nose kind of almost poked her in the eye and how he really only kissed her long enough to shut her up. Their first kiss wasn’t supposed to be a _Mari Shut Up I’m Trying To Talk To You_ kiss.

“Marinette,” he said firmly, and when she went to yell at him again he put his thumb over her lips, pressing just hard enough that all she could really do was purse them. He was still grinning. She still wanted to punch him. “First off, ok, I could have said that better. I was trying to be romantic. Or clever. I don’t know.”

“You were trying to be _stupid_ ,” she tried to say, but with his thumb still on her lips it just came out garbled.

“Second, if you’d let me finish…” he said, lifting an eyebrow at her. She rolled her eyes and nodded. He looked so stupid, with his hair slicked back and clipped up and covered in drying dye. “I don’t _like_ you because I _love_ you. And I get it, Mari. You’re not there yet. But I have to be completely upfront with you. I’m in deep here. More than… _girlfriend-like_.”

He was snickering at that, and she rolled her eyes. She felt like she had whiplash – like there were too many emotions simmering under the surface, all clamoring for focus on their way out. She still wanted to punch him, but she wanted to kiss him again, too. She settled for sticking her tongue out at him, but he still had his thumb against her lips and she ended up just kind of…licking him instead. His eyes widened at that, a look crossing his face that she wasn’t sure what to do with. He swallowed, his eyes focused on her lips like he wanted to kiss her again, too.

She felt like they deserved a second chance at that first kiss, anyway.

“Can I talk now?” she mumbled, the words still garbled against his thumb. He winced and moved his hand, shaking his head.

“Sorry,” he said. “Yeah, I…ow! Hey!”

She had slammed her foot into his, digging her heel in with a satisfied little smile. She wished she’d been wearing shoes. Specifically, that pointed pair of heels she only wore on fancy occasions.

“ _That_ is for being a stupid boy,” she huffed. He nodded, as if he understood, but before he could say anything she was grabbing his face and tugging him towards her. She held him for a moment, glaring at him as he watched her. He seemed more nervous than he had a moment ago. Good. She brushed her thumb against his cheek, smirking a little when she saw the smear of blue left in its wake. “And this…is for _trying_ to be sweet. Even if you kinda blew it.”

She pushed herself up on her toes, pressing her lips to his in a much softer, much nicer second first kiss. She could feel his heart flutter-skip under where her fingertips pressed against his neck, but that was ok because hers matched it in time when his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer. His fingers brushed against her sides, where her shirt was tied higher than she’d meant but perfectly for this, and she sighed against his mouth. Her fingers slipped down, brushing along his neck before her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and he made a little whining noise as he tilted his head and slanted his mouth against her own. He licked at her lips, but instead of deepening the kiss he pulled away. There was a silly little smile on his face as he pressed his forehead to hers, but she figured she was wearing her own silly little smile, too.

“You taste like berries,” he said, sounding thoroughly dazed. She giggled, squeezing her arms around his shoulders. He sighed, pecking a brief kiss against her lips. “You’re delicious.”

“…dork,” she giggled. “It’s my lip gloss.”

“You’ve ruined berries for me forever,” he said. His eyes opened half-way, and the hooded look he gave her was about as dazed as he sounded. As she felt. His thumb continued to brush against her side, and a shiver raced down her spine. “I’m never going to be able to have berries again without thinking of this moment. Without thinking of you, and how soft your lips are, and how you taste like berries.”

“…you smell like berries,” she said. His eyes opened a little more, a look of surprise crossing his face.

“I do?” he asked. He sounded confused, and it was adorable, so she decided to kiss him again. Because she could now. Because Luka liked…Luka _loved_ her, and kissing was something you did with someone you loved. She found herself giggling, and he tipped her face up to kiss her again. Because they kissed now. She really liked that they were kissing now. “Hey. I smell like berries?”

“I think it’s your hair,” she said, still giggling as she reached up to tug on a clump. The dye was drying, but it was still kind of tacky under her fingers. She grinned and rubbed them against his neck, which was already blue from…oops. She grinned up at him. “I didn’t realize it until tonight, but your dye smells like berries. I started using this new lip gloss over the summer, and the smell always made me really happy. And I think…I don’t think I realized it was because it smelled like you. Like berries.”

“And you call me a dork,” he chuckled. She kissed his cheek – the one that wasn’t smeared with dye.

“You are a dork,” she teased. She bit her lip, and he leaned in to pull it from her teeth with his lips. At least that’s what she thought he was trying to do, but then he was sucking on her lip and running his tongue along it and…a moment later she pulled back, a little breathless and dizzy from it all. “But…you can be my dork. If you’d like.”

“I’d like that very much, Marinette,” he sighed, pulling her closer. “I’d very much like to be your dork. If you’ll be mine.”

“You were wrong, you know,” she said. His eyes opened, and he frowned a little as he thought back on what he’d said. She nudged her nose against his. “You said I’m not there yet. But…I might be. Maybe?”

“…maybe?” he asked, but he was still smiling like it was the best thing he’d ever heard. Like he was in love with her and her maybe being in love with him was something kind of amazing. And she didn’t want to ruin that, but…

He had been honest with her. She had to be honest with him.

“I thought I loved Adrien, Luka,” she said. If those words hurt him, he didn’t show it – but he had always known how she’d felt about Adrien. She had never hid that from him, and he had never asked her to. He’d loved her quietly, even when everything with Adrien had been a cacophony of feelings and emotions that she had thought, at the time and in their intensity, had been love. “But…I don’t think I did. Not the way you’re supposed to love someone, at least. And with you…it feels different. And maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m not there yet. But I feel like I could be, if not now then soon. I know that I like you. A lot. And I know that it feels different. And it feels like I might be in deep, too.”

“I can take that,” he said, his hands squeezing her sides. She smiled softly at him. She didn’t think she could say he smiled back when he hadn’t stopped smiling in the first place. “Can I kiss you again?”

“You don’t have to ask,” she giggled. “I like kissing you.”

“I _love_ kissing you,” he said, and he kissed her a bit deeper, a bit fiercer, just to prove his point. He groaned when he pulled away, and he leaned his forehead against hers. “But I really need to _stop_ kissing you. At least for now.”

“But kissing you is so much fun,” she pouted. He grinned at her before stepping back, and his grin grew when he looked her over. He loosely held her wrists, and he tugged her down the hall and towards the bathroom. He stepped in behind her, his hands landing on her shoulders as he smirked at her in the mirror. Her eyes widened at the sight of them.

“This is why I said the talking – _and kissing_ – needed to wait,” he teased, but he dropped another kiss against her shoulder all the same. A manic little giggle escaped her, and – without thinking – she raised her hands to her mouth. She immediately pulled them away when the scent of berries hit her nose – and when she saw her _very blue hands_ in the mirror. Which had marked her _very blue mouth_ , which she supposed was ok because at least it matched her _very blue nose, and neck, and cheeks, and eyebrows, and…_

“…at least you didn’t get much on my hair?” she laughed, which was somehow miraculously true. There was a bit, like where his forehead had touched hers and some of the dye had spread, but it was up along the edges and mostly on the black. She figured that wouldn’t show much, anyway. There was a little bit, along her cheek and on her neck, where the tips of the bleached bits were dabbed with blue, but that also didn’t look too bad. They could still work with this. Despite her otherwise very blue appearance, the bleached bits of her hair still looked bleached.

Except then Luka tapped her stomach, and when she looked down she was laughing again. There were more blue smudges on her new shirt (because like hell she was giving it back now), and on her stomach and sides. Though, to be fair, those were just as likely from her dyed hands as they were from his,

…and it’s not like he’d fared much better.

There had been a little bit of blue on his skin before, but she figured that was the hazard of hair dye. He’d also had a layer of something sticky and clear – petroleum jelly, maybe? – along his hair line, acting as a sort of buffer against the dye. His forehead was now shiny with how much that had smeared. His entire neck was blue from where she had shoved her hands in his hair – which was the same reason the one side of his face was streaked with blue like some extra from _Braveheart_. More drying, tacky smudges stained his shirt, and the tops of his arms (bare from where the sleeves had been ripped off) were streaked blue, too. The faded Jagged Stone logo was even peppered with blue dots from when she had poked him.

“You’re just lucky your hair’s not fully dry yet,” he murmured, dropping another kiss against the cleaner side of her neck. “…huh.”

He caught her eye in the mirror, a little grin curling his lips.

“I’ve been using this dye so long I guess I just stopped paying attention, but you’re right,” he said. He bent to her neck again and sniffed, and she giggled when his breath tickled across her skin. “It does smell like berries.”

“I told you,” she laughed. He squeezed her hips before pushing her towards the shower. “Hey!”

“Your hair’s still wet enough the dye should get out if you wash it real quick,” he said. He was already reaching for a cloth, but he paused as he glanced back at her. “Actually, what’s on your skin might come off easily enough if you just wash it, too. We have wipes for any that doesn’t wash off, so we should be able to get most of it off.”

He was already scrubbing at his neck with the cloth, trying to wash the dye off his own skin.

“Once you’re done, we’ll just blow-dry your hair and get the pink in,” he said. He frowned when he pulled the cloth away from his neck. His skin didn’t look much better. “…I look like I murdered a Smurf.”

She snickered, and he smirked at her. He nodded towards the shower.

“Go on,” he said. “You don’t want that drying any more than it already has.

“…Luka,” she said, bringing his attention back to her. Her hands were fidgeting, wringing in front of her – she didn’t want to touch the shirt and stain it any worse than it already was, even if that had been the point of wearing it in the first place. He blinked at her, and she rolled her eyes before waving her hand at him in a shooing motion. His eyes shot open, and suddenly his face wasn’t just blue: there was a fair bit of red there, too. “I can’t…y’know…hop back in the shower if you’re still in here.”

“Right!” he said, so loud and so fast she was would have sworn his voice cracked. He coughed, rinsed the cloth out, and nodded. “There’s…uh…I’ll go find another sink. You…I’ll…I’ll meet you back in the room. Right. Sorry. I’m…yeah.”

He paused in the doorway as she started laughing again, and he stuck his tongue out at her before closing the door between them. She walked back over to the sink – where he had left the water running, she supposed so she could rinse her hands off – and leaned against the door, still giggling.

“You’re going to kill me,” his muffled voice came from the other side of the door. She bit her lip to try and stop the giggles, but she wasn’t very successful. “I love you so much, but you are definitely going to kill me.”

“At least we’ll have fun doing it,” she called back. There was the shortest of beats where her words sunk in, and then her face was flaming again as he groaned. There was a thump on the other side of the door, and then she heard him walking away. She groaned and pressed her hands to her mouth, suddenly not caring about the dye already staining everything. “I-I mean killing you! Not… _shut up, Luka!_ ”

She heard full-blown laughter coming from down the hall and knew he heard her, and she thwumped her head against the door.

When she looked back up at the mirror, the blue-red girl looking back at her was grinning like an idiot. An incredibly happy, lovesick, besotted _idiot_.

– V –

Luka was _flying_ when he walked back into the common room. His face hurt from how much he was smiling, and he was humming the song he’d had stuck in his head for about a year now. He was still rubbing at his neck with the damp cloth, making his way towards the galley sink, and maybe didn’t notice the wide-eyed stares that followed him.

…it was a little easy to ignore stares when _Marinette maybe-not-yet-loved-him-but-definitely-boyfriend-liked-and-easily-mored_ him.

He stopped about halfway between the door and the counter and pressed the cloth to his mouth to hide his smile (and maybe stop the _very_ Rose-like scream that wanted to escape). God, he was starting to think like Marinette. He probably deserved all the shit Juleka was going to give him for –

Something hard hit his back, and he spun on his heel to stare at Juleka. Rose, upon getting a better look at him, started screaming and bouncing on the couch. Juleka immediately placed her hands on her shoulders, in an attempt to steady her, but the demonic smirk on his sister’s face was all for him.

“Brother dear,” she drawled, her eyes narrowing with twisted glee, “ _why do you look like you murdered a Smurf?”_

He picked up the remote that was lying by his feet and tossed it back at her – maybe a little harder than he should have, but definitely not as hard as he could have. He grinned at her.

“I have a dork,” he said. Her eyebrows soared, her smile taking on a more sinister gleam, and he winced as he recalled the lunch earlier that week when Juleka had accused him of being a _dork_ and Dingo had informed them _dorks_ were actually whale dicks. He flipped her off and headed towards the sink. “Shut up, Jules. You’re not taking this from me.”

“Taking _what_ from you, Luka?” Rose squealed, and he rolled his eyes as he rinsed off the cloth.

“You know what, Ro,” he said. He turned back to them as he started scrubbing at his neck again. He used the camera on his phone as an impromptu mirror, wincing when he saw the dye wasn’t really coming off.

“I need to hear it, Luka,” Rose said, still vibrating in her seat. “I need actual confirmation that my ship is sailing and –”

“Marinette’s my girlfriend,” he said. Rose screamed so loud Luka half-expected to hear sirens coming down the street. Juleka yelped as Rose leapt off the couch and ran over to him, snatching the cloth from his hand and grinning as she bounced in front of him. “Rose –”

“You said it? The actual words, not your music metaphors that maybe mean what you think they mean but can still really confuse someone if they don’t know you? I mean she _knows_ you, so I’m pretty sure she understands your music metaphors, but –” Rose started, and he laughed as he held up a hand.

“Rose!” he called, cutting her off. She was wringing the cloth and grinning at him, looking every bit the Manic Pixie Unicorn they teased her as. “Breathe.”

“Right, right, sorry,” she said, nodding. She rinsed the cloth off and motioned for him to bend down. He rolled his eyes and did as instructed, and she started rinsing the dye off his face. “Ok. Spill. What just happened? Because you closed the door, you _jerk_ , and all we heard was yelling and then _nothing_ and –”

“Rose!” Juleka called, and Rose bit her lip to stop the ramble. She stopped scrubbing at his face, the cloth still pressed to his cheek, and he nodded.

“I told her I loved her,” he said. He winced a little, and she poked his cheek with the cloth. “Well. I told her I loved her by telling her I _didn’t like her_ –”

“WHAT?!” Rose screeched, slapping him in the chest with the cloth. He held up his hands, ignoring Juleka’s _“Dumbass!”_ from the counter. He glanced over to find she had hopped up there, her legs crossed and the bowl of popcorn in her lap. “Luka! You did not!”

“Which is what led to the yelling,” he said. His smile softened, and he looked down as he remembered their admittedly not great first kiss – and then the admittedly much better second kiss, and all the kisses that had followed. Rose poked him again, and he grinned at her as she started scrubbing his arms. “But we started talking. And I told her I loved her, and she told me she likes me –”

“Likes?” Rose asked, lifting a brow, and he nodded.

“Maybe more than likes, maybe not quite love, but…moving in that direction,” he said. “It’s new, Rose. But we both agree we want to be together, so I’m good with that for now.”

“And the murdered Smurf?” Juleka asked, grinning as she threw some popcorn in her mouth. Luka felt his face turning red again.

“I told her there would be kissing,” he said with a shrug, “and that the kissing should wait until the dye was out.”

Rose squealed again and resumed her bouncing, grabbing onto his arms and shaking him with all the jumping. After a moment he started laughing and shrugged her off, laying his hands on her shoulders to still her. She was still shaking, her hands fisted in front of her as she looked between him and Juleka.

“Juleka!!!!” she squealed, and Juleka just smirked at them. She looked back at him and gasped. “ _Luka!!!!!_ ”

“So does this mean I can change her contact to ‘Sister Dude’ in my phone now?” Juleka wheedled. Luka shot her a glare, or at least attempted to – he was still a little too giddy to successfully glare at anyone at the moment. He did grab some popcorn from the bowl and flick it at her face, though.

“I won’t stop you, but I also won’t stop her if she tries to change it back,” he said. Juleka just smirked, and he rolled his eyes and turned back to Rose. He gestured at his face. “Am I good? We still have to get Mari’s dye in.”

“…did you mess up her hair, Luka?” Rose asked, her eyes narrowing a bit. He held out his hand for the cloth, but she continued to watch him expectantly.

“It’s fine, Rose,” he said. He wiggled his fingers for the cloth, and she sighed before batting his hand away and giving his arm one last scrub.

“Ok, you should be good. No more kissing until the dye’s out!” she said, wagging her finger at him. He snatched the cloth back and rolled his eyes. He was still grinning as he walked back to the room. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to stop.

“No promises!” he called. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, his grin growing as he heard Rose start squealing again. He took a deep breath and raised his head. When he saw Marinette smiling at him from the vanity, he lost that breath again.

She was sitting in the chair with her knees pulled up to her chest, her still-kinda-blue hands wrapped around her legs. Blue eyes peeked out at him over her knees, and he could still see blue staining her nose. It didn’t look like it had done much damage to her hair, though. There was a little blue here and there, but nothing they couldn’t work with.

“You told them?” she asked, and he nodded.

“They were concerned because of the yelling,” he said. He bit down on his smile, staying by the door. “…I told them you’re my girlfriend.”

She ducked her face behind her knees, but her feet tapped a giddy staccato against the chair. She looked back up at him, and they spent a moment just grinning at each other. She finally raised a hand to him, beckoning him over, and he swallowed. He crossed the room and took her hand, threading their fingers together. He really liked how her hand felt in his. He’d held her hand before, but there was something weightier about it now. He pressed their palms together, and she smiled as she looked up at him.

“I think I’m going to like being your girlfriend,” she said quietly. He brushed her bangs back and dropped a kiss against her forehead. She sighed, her eyes closing, but it was a happy sound. So much better than the heavier sighs of before, back when… “…if you start that up again my hair’s never going to get done,”

“Right. Sorry,” he said. He grinned at her, pecking a kiss against her nose before pulling away. He wasn’t really sorry, and they both knew it. “I just…really like doing that.

She smiled like she agreed with him, took a breath, and kicked her feet down. He bit his lip when he caught a good glimpse of her. Most of the blue had rubbed off – a lot better than his own efforts – but the one side of her neck and part of her face was still splotchy. Her nose was still blue, too. He reached around her and pulled a box out of one of the vanity drawers.

“Color-Removing Wipes? They actually make these?” she asked. He opened one and tilted her head, rubbing gently at her neck. Her eyes widened as she watched the color slowly disappear on her reflection in the mirror.

“I told you,” he chuckled.

“I thought you were joking,” she said. “Or just meant like…alcohol wipes or something. I don’t know. I’ve never done this before, remember?”

He hummed, still rubbing gently at her neck. Her eyes closed, and she smiled, tilting her head a bit more to give him better access. His other hand came up to cup her cheek, and she turned her head to press a kiss to his palm. A comfortable silence settled over them while he worked, and soon enough most of the stains on her skin were gone. There were still faint bits of blue, but they would wash off soon enough. It wasn’t anything _too_ incriminating, at least.

…well. Except for her nose. He maybe hadn’t wiped her nose as much as he could have, but the faint blue smudge there was just too damn cute. Still, the rest was mostly gone, and she certainly looked worlds better than he did, but he’d worry about himself once they got her dye in. Besides, the sooner her dye was in the sooner it was out, and he really wanted the dye out of the way.

He went to step back, to get her dye and the brush from the vanity, but something was holding him in place. He looked down and chuckled when he saw her hands on his hips, her thumbs hooked through his belt loops. He chuckled and tapped her nose. She blinked open her eyes, and he smiled as he put his hands over her own.

“I need to move,” he said. A pretty blush colored her cheeks, though she didn’t immediately move her hands. He wondered how he hadn’t even noticed her putting them there – when her touching him had become something he was just used to. She squeezed his hips, but before she could let go he leaned in and gave her a quick kiss. She squeezed him again before pulling back, and he grinned as he reached for the tub of petroleum jelly. He clipped her bangs back and rubbed a line of jelly beneath her forehead, and she shivered at the cool touch. He winked at her when she looked back at him.

“Helps keep the dye off your skin,” he explained. He chuckled as he slipped on a pair of gloves. “Unless someone decides to rub their face all over yours and smear it.”

“I don’t recall you complaining in the moment, and _you_ put your face on me first,” she tutted, reaching up to tap her neck. He laughed as he picked up her jar of dye. He wasn’t really sorry about that.

Curiosity hit him as he opened the jar, and he couldn’t help it. Her eyebrows rose as he lifted the jar to his nose and took a sniff.

“It smells like berries, too,” he said with a grin, holding the jar out for her. She sniffed it and giggled, and God, he was getting addicted to her giggles. He dipped the brush into the jar and stirred, and the smell only got stronger.

“Good,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist when he stepped back to her. She leaned her chin on his stomach, smiling up at him, and even though he needed her to sit up he took a moment to just stand there and smile back at her. “I’ll smell like you now.”

…he wasn’t entirely opposed to that idea, he couldn’t help but think. Maybe. He nudged her back with a hum, telling her to sit up. He gathered some dye on the brush, put the jar on the table, and unclipped a section of her bangs.

“I don’t know, Mari,” he said, his lips quirking a little with a smirk. “I’m a teenage boy. We don’t always smell the best. Juleka says I smell like the river and sweat most days, especially when I’m working. I’d rather you keep smelling like the bakery.”

“I meant your dye, you dork,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him. He just smiled and continued brushing the pink dye onto her hair. It didn’t smell _exactly_ like his – the pink was sweeter, lacking the tang the blue had – but he couldn’t help but think that was appropriate for her. He paused as he scooped up some more dye, his eyes darting back to catch her smile. She had hooked her thumbs in his belt loops again, and her fingers were teasing the bit of skin above his jeans. Her fingers stilled when she caught him watching her. “Sorry. I can…I didn’t…”

“It’s cool,” he said, putting a hand over hers when she tried to pull back. His thumb brushed against her wrist, and her smile returned as her fingers snuck back to his skin. He closed his eyes and took a breath, stopping to just soak in the moment. To familiarize himself with the feather-light touches, to adjust to the subtle shift from _friend_ to _girlfriend_. A Marinette who wanted to touch him because she was his girlfriend and could.

He picked up the next section of hair and continued his work in silence, but his mind was racing. Even with Marinette sitting in front of him, even with the touches and the kisses and everything they’d said and shared that day, part of his mind was still having trouble catching up. He could hardly believe that he was allowed to have this – that this was his now. That Marinette actually wanted him, wanted _them_ , and he was allowed to want her back. He had spent so long thinking even the idea of _Them_ was out of reach, and now…

He needed to stay in the moment. To live it, to be here with her. There would be time later to hole up with his guitar and write a million stupid love songs to process everything he was feeling. Right now, though, she was here, with him, because she _wanted to be_ , and he needed to feel that.

He took a deep breath and put the brush back in the bowl to wash again. He tilted her chin up, trying to study her objectively to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. It was a little hard to do, with her eyes watching him like that – like she could look at him all day if given even half the chance – and her fingers still brushing distracting little patterns on his waist. Satisfied, he removed his gloves.

“Ok, you’re good,” he said. “Usually we let it sit through a movie. It’s more like a stain than a dye, so it’s not going to damage your hair – and the long wait gives you a more vibrant color. So – hey!”

She had sprung from the chair, using her grip on his hips to flip their positions. He blinked at her, a little dazed at her agility and strength – which _shouldn’t_ surprise him, given…certain _suspicions_ he might have, but it was unusual to see that from Marinette. Marinette, who tripped over her own feet walking off the gangway, had just _manhandled_ him. Marinette, who was a good head shorter than him and built like a gymnast (muscled, sure, but _tiny_ ). Marinette, his _girlfriend_.

…God, that was hot.

“We missed most of the movie, anyway,” Marinette said, completely oblivious to his distress (or at least acting like she was). She grabbed one of the wipes and stepped between his legs, grinning at him. “My turn now.”

“W-what?” he asked, and God, had his voice just cracked? Like he was still thirteen and suffering through puberty?

Instead of answering, she opened the wipe, tilted his chin up, and rubbed the wipe along his neck. Her other hand rested on the hinge of his jaw, her fingers barely touching him with her thumb pressed to his chin – just enough to hold him in place and torture him. He swallowed, and her eyes followed the bob of his throat like…God, she was going to be the death of him.

When the blue stopped disappearing and the wipe was covered, she dropped it in the trash and reached for another. He went to move his head, but her fingers pressed into his skin and she told him to hold still. It was hard, with the way she was watching him. Her tongue had poked out at the corner of her mouth, curled in concentration, and it was _very_ distracting. He just wanted to tug her into his lap and kiss her stupid (as stupid as she was making him), but the last time he’d done that they’d ended up…well, looking like they’d murdered Smurfs. He swallowed again when she reached for yet another wipe.

It shouldn’t have surprised him. He had seen his reflection, and he knew how many wipes it had taken to get her clean, but his skin felt like a livewire with every little touch. And she was working slower than he had, which…he was pretty sure was intentional, just to make him lose his mind. His hands slid around her waist, holding her loosely, and she smiled as she dropped another wipe in the trash. His eyes closed as her fingers pressed against his head, indicating he she was ready to move to the other side, and the process started all over again. His arms tightened around her, and there was a little giggle before she was climbing onto his lap. His eyes shot open as her knees pressed into his hips, but then she was settling closer and they were dropping to their sides. The chair wasn’t big enough to fit both of them like that, but damn it all if she wasn’t trying. He looked up at her, pretty sure he looked as dazed as he felt, and she smiled down at him.

She wiped along his cheek, gently rubbing to remove the dye, and he swallowed as she leaned in to press her lips against the clean spot. It was a new kind of torture entirely: she’d gently rub the wipe along the dyed bits of his face until it was clean, and then she’d drop a kiss against the cleared skin. She seemed to work even slower than she had with his neck, until his skin felt electric and his heart was beating so fast he was sure she had to feel it. She dropped another cloth into the trash, and her hands slid along his jaw to hold him in place. Her thumbs brushed against the corners of his mouth, and her nose bumped his. She hovered on the edge of kissing him, and for the life of him he wouldn’t be able to say if it was because she was being mindful of the dye or trying to kill him.

…it could very well be both.

“Can I just…stay here?” she whispered, her nose nudging his. His arms tightened around her, and he could feel the tension beneath her skin. The desire to sink into the moment, to be held and hold him in return, but knowing they were just going to end up pink and blue (and quite possibly purple) if she did.

“You can stay forever,” he breathed, and he tilted his head to steal the kiss she’d seemed hesitant to give him. She tasted like alcohol wipes, and he chuckled as he pulled back, scrunching his face to tease her a little. “I think I prefer the berries.”

“…dork,” she chided, but he kissed her again anyway.

“ _Your_ dork,” he reminded her, and the happy little hum she made had him flying all over again. He sighed and squeezed her.

“As much as I want to stay here, the couch would be more comfortable,” he said. Neither made any attempt to move, though. Her fingers had slid from his jaw to his neck, and her thumbs were now absently stroking along the neckline of his shirt. Her fingers curled over his shoulders. “Ma-Ma-Marinette.”

“In a minute,” she said. She leaned back, her eyes opening slowly. He smiled at her, and he could feel the warmth from her face as it flushed. Her thumb pressed a little harder, and her eyes darted to his forehead quickly before she was angling her head and leaning in. She kissed him slowly, carefully, perfectly. He was ok if they never moved again.

So of _course_ that was when Juleka decided to check on them.

“I knew it!” Juleka called from the door. Marinette jerked back, but with how close he was holding her she didn’t get far. She blinked at him with wide eyes, and he smiled as his thumb stroked her back. “Rose, they’re totally making out!”

“I know it’s technically your room, too, and we _are_ using your vanity, but you could still knock, you gremlin,” Luka called. Marinette stayed frozen on his lap. He could see her desire to hide, to flee, and knew if not for the dye she’d be tucked against his chest. He smiled in an attempt to ease her nerves, leaning up to kiss her cheek.

“At least you got her dye in first,” Juleka muttered. She smirked at Marinette – not that she saw it. “Mari, I’m happy for you guys. Really, I am. Please just remember he’s my _brother_ and it’s _gross_.”

“Like you weren’t shoving your tongue down Rose’s throat while we were in here,” Luka grumbled, and he grinned when Marinette snorted. Juleka flipped him off.

“Sadly, no,” she sighed. “My Manic Unicorn has too much dye in, and I don’t want to look like _Gargamel,_ you _Smurf murderer._ ”

Luka grabbed her brush and chucked it at the door. Juleka cackled as she ducked behind the wall.

“Just wanted to let you know we were about to throw another movie in!” she called. “If you wanted to join!”

She left the door open once she’d disappeared, and he could hear the opening sequence of the second _Guardians of the Galaxy_ movie playing. He rolled his eyes and looked back at Marinette. Her hands hand dropped to his chest, and she was looking down at where his arms still held her as she pushed against him.

“W-we should…um…we should get back out there,” she said. He grinned as he pinched her hip, and she jumped as she looked back at him.

“Sick of kissing me already?” he teased. She grabbed his face and pressed her lips back to his. It wasn’t as jarring this time, not like when he’d kissed her to shut her up. They were more familiar with each other now, though the kiss was still jarring enough. He had a feeling every kiss with Marinette was bound to leave him rattled, no matter how intense or brief or…she flicked her tongue against his lips when she pulled away, and he groaned.

“I don’t know if I’m ever going to get sick of kissing you,” she said, her voice a little breathless. “But you’re right. I want to kiss you when we don’t taste like alcohol preps and have to worry about…did she call us _Smurf murderers?_ ”

“…don’t ask,” he laughed. He sighed and moved his arms. Letting her go felt like a physical struggle. She pecked one last kiss against his cheek before she stood, and he missed her as soon as she was off of him.

“I’m going to go wash my hands,” she said. She wrinkled her nose, and it was the cutest damn thing he’d even seen. “And my face. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Which left him to head into the common room alone, and he supposed looking thoroughly _Stupid_ because Rose started squealing as soon as she saw him. He plopped down on the couch beside her and sighed as he watched Baby Groot dance across the screen. He was about to tell Rose and Juleka to _shut it_ when Marinette shrieked from down the hall.

“ _LUKA COUFFAINE, REALLY?!”_ she called. Juleka and Rose looked at him, but he just bit down on his grin and shrugged. When Marinette appeared a moment later, another wipe in her hand and pointing at her blue nose, he started laughing. “Jerk!”

“It was cute,” he said in his defense. If she elbowed him a little harder than necessary when she sat down, he didn’t complain – but that was mainly because she had immediately curled into his side, hugging onto his arm and propping her chin on his shoulder. He turned to apologize when she rubbed a sticky finger against his nose. His eyes widened in surprise, but she just smirked at him as Juleka and Rose laughed. He blinked. “…you just put pink on my nose, didn’t you?”

“We match now,” she said, settling back against the couch and looking at the screen. “Aw, Baby Groot! I love this movie!”

He rolled his eyes and sank back into the couch, careful not to get his hair on the back. Juleka chucked a napkin at him, and he wiped the dye off his nose. From how Juleka was snickering, he was sure it had been on long enough to stain.

“Ok, maybe you can be gross with him,” Juleka said. She leaned around Rose and held her fist out to Marinette. “Welcome to the fam, Mari.”

Marinette’s face was warm against his arm, but she was smiling when she bumped her fist against Juleka’s. She peeked up at him, and he tipped her chin up to give her a quick kiss. He tried not to groan when the scent of berries hit him again. He knew it had to be from her hair, but when he sat up and licked his lips they tasted like berries, too. She’d put her lip gloss back on. Rose was grinning at him like she had him figured out, but he just pulled Marinette closer and focused on the movie.

– V –

Marinette hadn’t lied: she _did_ love the next movie they’d put on. The Guardians were great, and the movies had some of the best music in the franchise. Plus, the second movie had Baby Groot, and who didn’t love Baby Groot? So it was easy to curl up against Luka’s side and get lost in the movie while they all waited for their hair to set. The others had stopped snickering at them (though Rose kept shooting little looks their way, and she knew Rose was going to demand _details_ at some point), and Luka had settled for keeping his arm around her, his thumb brushing absently against her bare arm. At some point the popcorn had been placed between Rose and him, and when he offered her a handful she took it. It was just another movie night, and Marinette could almost forget anything _Major_ had happened that day.

…except about halfway through, right as Groot freed Nebula, Juleka stood and tugged Rose towards their cabin.

“Awww, but we’re just getting to the good part!” Rose whined, and Juleka rolled her eyes as she pushed her through the door.

“Told you you should’ve put the real Mary Poppins on,” Juleka mumbled, and Marinette would have laughed if Juleka hadn’t shot a warning look their way. “We won’t be gone as long as you two. Stay decent.”

“Juleka!” Luka snapped, but Juleka was already slamming the door behind her. Luka groaned and tipped his head back, and Marinette pressed her smile into his arm. He looked down at her, and she grinned up at him. “You’re going to get real sick of me apologizing for her.”

“…I don’t mind,” she said. “I knew her first, remember? I mean…before I knew you. You technically knew her first, but I was friends with her before I was friends with…” she trailed off when he grinned at her, and she rolled her eyes. “Anyway. I gotta admit…I kinda like the new Juleka. She’s really come into her own the past year or so.”

“That’s partially your fault, you know,” he said. He reached for some more popcorn, and she had to poke him to get his attention back from the movie.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t do anything,” she said. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“You really don’t get how amazing you are, do you?” he asked. She frowned, and he turned to face her. He pulled his leg up between them, and she was tempted to shove it off the couch. She’d been enjoying leaning on him. She was a little mollified when he reached up to cup her face. “Marinette, how do you not get it? Just…being you. You’re so incredible. Juleka’s…she’s brave, but she’s not always…bold? It takes a lot to push her to that point. She’s more comfortable in the background, and unfortunately that means a lot of times she just…lets people walk all over her.”

Marinette winced. She had always feared she was guilty of that – the walking over her friend, much like Alya had always done with her – but she had also hoped Juleka would say something if she felt Marinette was steamrolling her. She had always hoped they were close enough that Juleka felt comfortable enough to tell her that.

“I’m sorry,” she said, trying to look down. “I know I can get a little bossy, but –”

“What? No, Mari, no,” he said, tilting her face up again. He looked amused by the idea. “You don’t…that’s not what I meant. I mean you’ve stood up for Jules so many times. Even before I met you, I was hearing stories of this incredible girl who always made sure my favorite sister felt included. Even when it was hard. You made an effort to be Juleka’s friend when so many in that stupid class of yours would have let her fade into the background. She’s better for that, Mari.”

“I…I was just her friend,” Marinette mumbled. Luka leaned in and kissed her, and she reached up to hold his wrist.

“That’s what she needed,” he said. “You were her friend. You were patient with her and accepted her as she was, and that gave her the confidence to just…keep being her. If she’s more open now, it’s because people like you and Rose gave her the chance to be. I’m really grateful for that, Mari.”

“I guess I just like Couffaines,” she said, smiling a little despite the heat she felt crawling up her neck. “They’re kind of cool, you know.”

He chuckled, kissing her again, and she sighed as she leaned into him. She tightened her grip on his wrist, as if reminding herself that she had to be careful of their hair – of the dye that was drying but still tacky enough that it would spread if she shoved her hands in his hair again.

And she _really_ wanted to shove her hands in his hair again.

He chuckled as he pulled away, and she pulled her lower lip between her teeth to run her tongue along it. When she looked up at him, his eyes were dark and focused on that lip. She giggled and nudged him.

“Juleka told us to stay decent,” she reminded him softly. He groaned and sat back on the couch, his foot dropping to the floor.

“Don’t remind me,” he huffed. She cuddled up against him again, still giggling as she kissed his cheek.

“And you still have to wash the dye out of your hair,” she said. He sighed and nodded.

“I’ll go do it when they’re done, and then we can probably get yours out,” he said. He looked back at her, smiling. “There’s a utility sink in the laundry. We can wash it out there if you don’t want to deal with another shower.”

“Whichever,” she said. He had latched onto her hand at some point, and she smiled as he squeezed it.

“I can wash it out for you,” he said, pressing his face into her shoulder. Some of the dried bits of hair poked into her cheek, and her lips twitched as she tried to lean back. “I’m really glad you stayed tonight, Mari.”

“Me, too,” she said. “I think I’d like that. You washing my hair.”

He hummed, but he didn’t say anything else. She started watching the movie again, though he kept his face on her shoulder. She didn’t really mind. She wasn’t sure how much time passed like that, but by the time Juleka and Rose came back out she would have sworn Luka had fallen asleep.

“Well, at least you’re decent,” Juleka said. Her hair was still damp, but she had tied it back in a loose braid like the Captain’s. Her bangs were clipped back, giving Marinette a full view of the glint in her eyes. She poked Luka’s shoulder before dropping back onto the couch. “But if you keep doing that you’re gonna blue her again.”

“…I did not just hear you say that,” Luka grumbled, blindly swatting at her with his face still hidden. Juleka snickered when he hit Rose instead.

“Luka, keep your mind out of the gutter!” Rose tutted. Marinette bit on her lip, and Rose winked at her. “All she meant was you’ll get your dye everywhere again. I know the Captain prefers the _lived-in_ look, but I don’t think she’ll appreciate blue all over her couch.”

“Nope, he definitely blue the couch,” Juleka snickered, flicking at a small patch of blue on the back. In Luka’s defense, the spot was old and faded and _definitely_ not from tonight. Luka jerked away from Marinette all the same, ready to say something scathing to his sister, but he stopped when he saw Rose.

“…oh my God,” he said, choking on a laugh. “Ro, you look _amazing_.”

Rose fluffed a hand along her purple-pink-green-blue hair and winked at them again, asking, “Don’t I just?”

“It looks great, Rose!” Marinette said, leaning around Luka to get a better look. Her hair was still a little wet, so the color was still a bit dark, but it still looked amazing. Marinette had no doubt it would only look better dry and in the light. “ _Very_ kitticorn.”

“Very Couffaine,” Juleka said, smiling as she nudged Rose’s shoulder. Rose giggled and bounced in her seat.

“Very Boat Kid!” she said. She winked at Marinette. “Right, Mari?”

Luka looked back at her with a smile, and she ducked her face against his arm. She nodded, and he chuckled and squeezed her hand. He sighed and let go, and Marinette frowned when he stood.

“All right, I’m gonna shower. Guys, give her a chance to breathe before you give her the third degree,” he said. Juleka threw more popcorn at his back as he left.

“No promises!” she called. When the door closed behind him, they both turned on her. She gulped at the gleam in their eyes.

Rose wasted no time in leaning over, her chin propped up in her hand, and drawling: “Sooooo?”

“So what?” Mari asked, shifting slightly as she turned back to the movie. She almost wished she hadn’t tied her shirt up, just to give her hands something to fidget with. She ended up picking at a loose string on the couch instead.

“You told him!” Rose said. Juleka rolled her eyes and reached over to ruffle Rose’s hair. She shot Marinette a look that said, _Yeah, that’s definitely in_ your _future, too._

“Of course she told him,” Juleka said. She paused and tilted her head. “Or did he tell you first? I figured he was gonna drag his heels forever. You’d definitely have to make the first move.”

Marinette felt her face warming again. She picked a bit harder at the string.

“Kinda…both?” she hazarded, shrugging. “I mean…you were there. I told him he could have a lapful of me whenever he wanted, and…”

“That was _amazing_ , by the way,” Rose giggled. She pressed her fist to her mouth to hide her smile. “I thought he was gonna explode!”

“But he said you needed to talk,” Juleka pointed out, hushing Rose. “So when you talked?”

“…he told me he didn’t like me,” she said, rolling her eyes. Rose’s mouth dropped in horror, surprising Marinette. Hadn’t Luka said…?

“ _WHAT?!_ ” she shrieked. Even Juleka looked surprised, though Marinette would have sworn Luka had said he’d told them what he’d done.

“Because he said he loves me,” she clarified. She pulled her knees up to her chest and ducked her head against them, smiling. “It was…a really dumb way of going about it, but he was trying to be sweet. He said he moved past _like_ a long time ago, so he couldn’t say he _likes_ me because he actually _loves_ me.”

“…do you love him?” Juleka asked. Marinette glanced up at her and almost wished she hadn’t. While Rose looked like she was going to start squealing again, there was a look on Juleka’s face that Marinette would almost call intimidating. She held Juleka’s gaze for a moment, weighing her words.

Did she? Could she honestly tell Juleka that? She had told Luka she liked him, that she thought she could more than like him eventually. Honestly, she was a little scared of using such a big word. The last time she had carelessly thrown around words like _Love_ , she’d been hit back with _Just a Friend_ and _Not Like That_. She didn’t want to be so easy with big words this time, not when Luka felt so important. Liking Luka felt…bigger. More.

…and wasn’t that her answer there?

“Of _course_ she loves him, Juleka!” Rose huffed, though Marinette was still looking at her knees. She didn’t want to tell Juleka she did if she wasn’t sure. She also didn’t want to tell Juleka before she told Luka, and yet…

No. Thinking the words – saying _I love Luka_ – felt true in her mind, but it had felt true before, too. All she could say for certain was that it felt…different. Bigger. And maybe it was love, but she knew that was ultimately between her and Luka. That was something they had to figure out together, and it was something they had to figure out on their own. And hadn’t she told Rose as much earlier? That she didn’t want any plots, schemes, or outside interference. They were going to be together on _their_ terms, and she wasn’t going to let Juleka pressure her into saying something she wasn’t ready for just yet. Something she needed to tell Luka first, if she told anyone.

“I want to hear her say it,” Juleka said, and she looked back up to find Juleka was almost glaring at her. “I love my brother, Marinette, and I need to know you’re sure about this. If you break his heart –”

“You’ll what, break her kneecaps? Lighten up, Jules,” Rose said. Juleka shot her a look, but Marinette just smiled.

“That’s fair,” she said. When Juleka looked back at her, she shrugged before looking back at her feet. Her toes curled against the couch, and she propped her chin on her knees. “But I can’t tell you that, Juleka. I can tell you I really like him. I can tell you I _might_ love him. But…”

Juleka waited, watching as she searched for the words. She didn’t want to mess this up. Luka was important to her, yes, but so was Juleka.

“…I don’t want to rush it,” she finally said, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead to her knees. “I want to like him and be allowed to like him. I can tell you it feels different. It feels bigger. But I don’t think I can use the words you want me to yet, and if I do he should be the one to hear it first. He’s too important for that. He’s…he’s special.”

“Damn right he is,” Juleka said with a firm nod. She smiled and reached around Rose to lightly punch her shoulder. Marinette looked up and returned her smile. “Welcome to the family. Just like…I dunno. Keep a sock on the door or something if you’re gonna swap spit. Just because I want you together doesn’t mean I want to see _that._ ”

Marinette pressed her face back into her knees to hide her smile, but she was pretty sure the way her feet tapped against the couch was a dead giveaway to her mood.

“I might have something better than a sock,” Rose chirped, and Marinette peeked out from behind her knees in time to see her show Juleka something on her phone. Juleka snickered and nodded, and a few taps later Rose was putting her phone away. She grinned and laid her head back on Juleka’s shoulder. “I was just hoping to use it in the kitchen at home, but this is _much_ better.”

Marinette was honestly afraid to ask. She figured she’d find out soon enough, anyway.

They fell back into a comfortable silence as the movie played out. A short while later Luka was leaning out of the cabin door. His hair was still damp, and he had changed into an undershirt and sleep pants.

“Ready?” he called, and she bit her lip as her eyes looked over him. Her stomach flipped pleasantly, and she ducked her head behind her knees again. Rose – who had sunk down on the couch until she was sprawling between Juleka and Marinette – giggled and kicked at Marinette’s side. Marinette gave her a half-hearted glare, and Rose winked at her.

“Don’t keep him waiting,” she teased. Marinette slapped her foot away, rolling her eyes as she hopped up. Luka’s eyes had honed in on her knees, and he was laughing by the time she reached him.

“What?” she asked. He took her hands and nodded towards her legs.

“Rule Number One of Dye Night, Mari,” he laughed, “ _Don’t Touch Anything._ ”

She looked down at her legs, and she snorted when she saw the flecks of pink streaking the ends of her thighs. She looked back up at him, but then she saw his still-pink nose and all she could do was smile.

“…it’ll wash,” she said with a shrug. He was still laughing as he tugged her after him, though he didn’t bother closing the door that time. He held onto her hand and led her through the cabin, down the hall, past the bathroom, past the Captain’s cabin, and towards the laundry. She raised an eyebrow at him as he patted a stool placed before an old utility sink, and he grinned at her.

“What?” he asked.

“No one else is in the bathroom,” she said. “We could’ve just…stayed there.”

He shrugged, smiling a little as he pulled some gloves from his pocket and slipped them on.

“…maybe I wanted you to myself,” he said, almost in a mumble but not quite. When he looked up at her, she noticed his cheeks were darkening. “I don’t know if you noticed, but Jules kept butting in earlier. Maybe I wanted to make things a bit harder for her.”

“Dork,” she chided, hopping onto the stool. He just smiled as he turned the water on and reached for the sprayer. A moment later he was bending her head over the sink. She wasn’t sure if her shiver was from the cool water running through her hair or the fingers gently, firmly massaging her scalp. “We’re…um…she told me we have to leave a sock on the door. Because she doesn’t want to see us being _gross_.”

“I will if she does,” he snorted. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve walked in on her and Rose? They’re disgusting, Marinette.”

“You love them,” she giggled. Her breath caught when his lips pressed against the back of her neck.

“I love you, too,” he murmured. He stayed there a moment longer, his forehead pressed to her shoulder. His hand was still in her hair, but the other had dropped the sprayer into the sink and braced against the edge. Her heart was doing acrobatics again, and she felt him smile against her neck when he went to press another kiss there. He pulled back a moment later and continued rinsing her hair. She swallowed as she watched the water run pink. “I guess we can humor them. What’s she counting as _gross_ , though?”

“S-swapping spit, she said,” Marinette mumbled, and he chuckled as he scratched at her scalp. She groaned and lifted her head a little, leaning into his touch. “That feels really good.”

“Keep your head down,” he chided lightly, pushing a little against her head. “We didn’t use a lot, but you’d be surprised how long it takes the dye to get all the way out. You don’t want any in your eyes or mouth.”

“The water looks like it’s clearing,” she said. He tugged on a bang, chuckling.

“The water was completely clear with my hair,” he said. “I promise you there will still be blue on my pillow tomorrow.”

She laughed at that, but she kept her head down and eyes closed. They lapsed into an easy, comfortable silence. At some point he started humming, and it was too easy to get lost in the moment. The cool water and his gentle touch, the soft song echoing in the room around them, the familiar rock of the boat on the river…she wondered when all of this had become so commonplace to her. When the Liberty had started feeling as much like home as the bakery. When the boy standing behind her had become someone she couldn’t imagine a day without.

Washing her hair took longer than she’d expected and yet was still over too soon. She was pretty sure he had stretched it out, just like she had wiping the dye off his skin. When the water was off, he dropped a towel over her head and rubbed to dry. She laughed when he moved the towel a bit more vigorously, but when it dropped to her shoulders he had wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned against her back, holding her close as he pressed his face against her neck. Her hand came up to rest on the back of his head, her arm resting on his own, and she shivered at the kiss he left on her skin.

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, quiet and still in the moment and soaking up the other’s presence, but she knew she would have been happy to stay there. She felt safe, and happy, and calm, and she knew any moment Juleka or Rose would find them and accuse them of being _gross_ or giggling at how cute they were or…her fingers twisted in his hair, and he held her closer, and it was too easy to sink back into him. His heart beat steady and strong behind her, a reminder that this was real. He was real, and here, and hers.

At some point she thought she heard Juleka or Rose yelling for them from the other side of the boat, but she wasn’t ready to face them yet. Their teasing would still be there tomorrow. Their teasing would still be there for a while yet, probably, and would only get worse when the weekend was over and they had to tell everyone else. Juleka’s second degree would be _nothing_ compared to Alya’s, and their good-natured teasing would pale in comparison to the hell Dingo would give them. But that would be later, after the moment, and they had time to prepare for that. After.

Her leg started falling asleep, or maybe it was that she had. She was dimly aware of another kiss on her shoulder, of Luka’s arms shifting and a weightless feeling as he picked her up. Her arms found their way around his neck, and she turned to cuddle against his chest as he carried her back to the cabin. By the time he tucked her into his bed, dropping a final kiss to her forehead, she was already asleep.

– V –

She woke up the next morning to sunlight streaming in above her head, which was…weird. The light usually took longer to hit her in the mornings, with how high her bed was. Her arm was stiff, too, and when she went to roll it to work out the kinks something held it in place. Her face scrunched, and she sucked in a frustrated breath as she burrowed deeper into her pillow to escape the light.

…except her pillow smelled like berries.

Berries. Like Luka. Like his hair dye. Like…the previous day came rushing back to her, and she smiled as she let the scent wash over her. She tried to squeeze her hands into excited little fists, but she met resistance again. She flopped her head against her pillow – _his_ pillow, she realized with a stupid little smile, though she might just have to steal it like she was planning on stealing his shirt – and saw her arm trailing over the side of the bed. She squeezed her fingers, smiling as she recognized the quickly-becoming-familiar feeling of his hand in hers, and peeked over the bed.

Luka was lying on the floor beside the bed, his hoodie bunched up like a pillow beneath his head and one of the old blankets from the couch wrapped around him. He was lying on his back, one arm thrown over his stomach and the other reaching up to hold her hand. His hair was mussed horribly, and she bit her lip as she fought the urge to comb it down. He was still asleep, but there was a silly little smile curling his lips that set the butterflies loose in her stomach again.

Yesterday…didn’t feel real, if she was honest with herself. It felt like a crazy dream she didn’t want to wake up from. But the proof was lying next to her – well, _kind of_ next to her. Luka, on the floor, his nose still pink from where she had rubbed the dye. Little splotches of blue along his neck that she knew would fade over time. The smell of berries wrapping around her like a comforting hug – like one of Luka’s hugs, that were now hers because _he was her boyfriend and he loved her_. The shirt that had untied at some point in the night, too big on her but still his and perfect. The tickling feeling around the sides of her face, where her hair…

_Her hair._

She jerked up, her hand slipping from his own with the sudden movement. She reached up, groping at her shoulders and feeling…nothing. That’s right. She’d cut her hair. She’d _dyed_ her hair. And then she had fallen asleep before she could even see what it looked like!

Luka made a noise in his sleep, and she looked down to see him roll onto his side, his arm reaching up to hold his hoodie closer. He was still smiling, though, and that made her smile. She bit her lip and glanced around the room. Juleka’s bed was empty, and Tikki was…sitting on Luka’s bedside amp, eating a cookie. She covered her mouth with a hand to hide her laugh, and Tikki grinned at her.

“Good morning,” her kwami whispered. Marinette held out a hand, and Tikki flew over with her cookie to sit. She lifted the tiny god to her face, and they pressed their cheeks together in a familiar greeting. “I like this one, Marinette. He’s a perfect gentleman.”

Marinette giggled, though she tried to stop when she heard Luka shift again. She held a finger to her lips in a shushing gesture, and Tikki giggled quietly as Marinette climbed out of the bed and over Luka. She paused by the foot of the bed, and she shushed Tikki again before peeking around the still-open door. She clamped her hand over her mouth to muffle her own laughter, and she could feel Tikki shaking on her shoulder.

Juleka and Rose were still on the couch, the TV still on and lightly playing one of the morning newscasts. Rose was lying half on top of Juleka, her head resting on her stomach and her arms wrapped around her middle. Her hair was sticking up like a spiky, multicolored halo, and Marinette _loved_ it. Juleka’s neck was bent in what Marinette knew had to be an uncomfortable angle against the arm of the couch, her mouth open with a little bit of drool running down her chin. Her arms were around Rose. Someone – probably Luka, or maybe the Captain (Marinette wasn’t sure what time the Captain had actually gotten in the night before; she hadn’t seen her, at least) – had tossed a blanket over them. Marinette felt something hard nudge her shoulder, and she snickered when she saw Tikki had retrieved her phone.

…the group chat from the Girl Squad had _exploded_. She winced when she saw the notifications – and the twenty-or-so privately from Alya – and cleared them. She’d deal with that later. She snapped a quick picture of her sleeping friends (…and one of Luka, because he was cute and hers and she wanted more pictures of him, dang it) before heading towards the bathroom.

With the door closed behind her, she took a deep breath and turned to face the mirror.

Logically, Marinette knew it was the same girl of the past three or four years looking back at her. She had the same blue eyes, lined by full lashes she had definitely inherited from her father’s side of the gene pool. The same slight build she had inherited from her mother’s. Her hair was still the same straight black that glinted blue in all light, but the pigtails were gone. A lot of it was gone, actually. It puffed up with sleep and the need for a good brushing, but it framed her face like…like her maman’s. It was an older cut that accented her older features, and when she pressed a hand to her cheek she didn’t feel like a thirteen-year-old kid was staring back at her. Even with the pink bangs, and the still-slightly-blue nose, and the blue smudges still on her neck…

She smiled, dropping her hand and standing a bit taller. A bit…stronger. Prouder. Logically, she knew nothing had really changed overnight – even if a lot had been changing lately, and even if a lot technically _had_ changed overnight. She knew that.

But the girl smiling back at her looked different, maybe about as different as she felt. She wasn’t the same girl she had been three or four years ago, and she definitely didn’t look it anymore.

“I like it, Marinette,” Tikki chirped, landing back on her shoulder. Marinette caught her eye in the mirror, and Tikki grinned at her. “Even if you took away my favorite hiding spot. It looks _cool_.”

“You’ll just have to hide in my jacket like Plagg,” Marinette teased, and Tikki giggled as she reached up to scratch her head. She smiled as she looked back at the mirror. It was silly, how empowering something as simple as a new haircut could make you feel. Maybe it wasn’t even the haircut at all: maybe it was just that she was finally accepting who she was and what she wanted. Maybe she just felt older. Maybe…maybe it was a little bit of everything, or just that the haircut was a simple way of reclaiming control when everything had felt so out of control for a long while now. Maybe she was just accepting that she couldn’t control things anyway and embracing that Boat Kid spirit of _Liberty_ , and the haircut was just marking that new stage in her life.

…maybe it was just a stupid haircut and she was over-thinking things too much again.

Still, Tikki was right. She liked it, and that’s what it all came down to, in the end. She liked her hair. She liked herself. She was happy. She liked that, too.

“You’re right, Tikki,” she said, smiling as her kwami hugged her cheek. “It does look pretty cool.”


	3. Punky Bugs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The obligatory "Ok but what about LADYBUG?" postscript.
> 
> Or: Luka.exe has stopped working (and Chat needs an upgrade, too!).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally…800 words. Until Quick reminded me I was cheating y’all out of Luka’s reaction to Ladybug. (Also huuuuge shout out to Quick & Mal, who read through this & kept me from spiraling too bad off the Crazy Train when I was convinced this entire thing was garbage. I’m not saying they saved the fic, but…they totally saved the fic. Actually shout out to all the LBSC gang who kept me from spiraling with this one. xD)

Marinette checked her phone when it buzzed, smiling down at the message.

_LC: ugh pete owes me SO MUCH_

_LC: every order today has SUCKED_

_LC: i could be getting mari snuggles rn :(_

Tikki giggled at her shoulder, and she stuck her tongue out at her kwami before replying.

_MDC: You know I’m busy tonight anyway._

_MDC: When’s your shift over?_

_MDC: I wouldn’t say no to snuggles before you go home. :)_

He didn’t reply for a few minutes, but when it finally buzzed all he’d sent her was a series of sighing emojis and hearts. She slid her phone into her pocket with a roll of her eyes and turned back to her mirror. She caught Tikki’s eye by her shoulder.

“Are you ready, Marinette?” she asked. Marinette nodded.

“Tikki,” she said, sharing a smile with the tiny god, “Spots On!”

She hadn’t transformed since her haircut. Thankfully, she hadn’t needed to. There had been no akuma attacks, and she’d been able to enjoy her Friday night and Saturday on the boat _with her boyfriend_ without worrying about being Ladybug. She was supposed to patrol Saturday night, though, and their afternoon had ended early when Luka had been called into work.

Her parents had _loved_ her hair. Her maman’s only complaint was that she hadn’t come to her first, but she understood. She wrote it off as a ‘silly mom thing’, anyway. When Tom had commented on the blue still on her nose – and the very _Not Blue_ color in her hair – and she had blushed in reply, her parents had shared a knowing little look.

…Luka was supposed to come over for brunch the next morning. She had tried to talk them into dinner the next weekend, but Sabine had pointed out that he’d be over well before then anyway (he’d been seen around the bakery almost daily the past few months), they should get the family dinner out of the way, and didn’t she want to plan an actual date for next weekend instead? They had compromised with dinner Sunday night, since Luka wasn’t _supposed_ to work and she didn’t know what time he’d get off Saturday night.

So she had spent most of Saturday afternoon in her room, working on homework or projects or flopped on her floor, staring at her ceiling and sporadically giggling every time she thought of _her boyfriend_. It wasn’t until after the sun had started to set and her patrol drew closer that she’d wondered how _Ladybug_ would look.

“You’ve been Ladybug for a while now, Marinette,” Tikki had told her. “So it’s kind of up to you? I can keep your appearance the same, if you want.”

Marinette had looked at herself in the mirror, considering.

Wasn’t the whole point of this that she didn’t want to look the same anymore?

She was reminded of the second _Hunger Games_ book, when Finnick had asked Katniss what had happened to her pretty, little-girl dresses.

“I outgrew them,” she’d told him.

Marinette couldn’t help but think of her pigtails the same way. Of her entire suit the same way, if she was honest. She had a new, grown-up haircut. Maybe it was time her supersuit stopped looking like a onesie, too.

So they had discussed it, and Tikki had beamed at her with pride. She agreed. Marinette was stronger now. _Ladybug_ was stronger. She deserved to show it.

Looking at herself in the mirror, Ladybug thought Tikki had done a pretty kickass job.

Her mask was probably the only thing that had stayed the same about her suit. Red bangs swept over her forehead, but the pixie cut was the same as her civilian hair. Her yoyo remained clipped on her hip, but the rest of the suit was _new_. Her classic spots remained on the main body of the suit, extending from her high mandarin collar and tapering into a _v_ at her waist. Black covered her hips and thighs and rose up her sides. Her boots actually looked like boots, covered in her red-and-black spots and rising a bit above her knee. Her spots wrapped around her chest like a breastplate, covering her back and shoulders and running along her forearms in a greave-like design, but there was more black covering her arms and extending into gloves.

Her Miraculous glinted proudly on her ears, though seven dots were now arranged in the circle instead of five. Tikki had warned her about this: she was getting stronger. Her recharge time was extending. She still didn’t advise pushing herself too much, but she wasn’t limited to five minutes anymore.

Tikki had even gone the extra step of adding a deep, _Ladybug red_ to her lips, the little show-off.

Her yoyo beeped, and after checking the notification she smirked at herself in the mirror. There was an akuma terrorizing downtown, according to the city’s alert system. Citizens were being advised to clear the area.

She clipped her yoyo back on her hip and leapt up to her bed, crawling out of her skylight with the ease of years’ worth of experience. A moment later, she was tossing her yoyo across the sky and zipping over the city.

Ladybug had to get to work.

– V –

Luka was, admittedly, not having the best of days.

It had started out pretty awesome. It had started out _really_ awesome, actually. He had woken up with Marinette wrapped around him, her head on his chest as she snuggled close. That had been…kind of amazing, actually. He wasn’t sure when she had moved from his bed to the floor, but he hadn’t complained as he’d shifted to hold her closer. He would have been happy staying there the rest of the day.

Unfortunately, his boss had had other plans. Well. His coworker, at least, though food poisoning wasn’t usually something you _planned._ And since Luka was already scheduled to work that night (and was one of the more reliable employees) his boss had had no problem calling him in a few hours early to cover Pete’s shift. He’d hated saying goodbye, but he hadn’t been at work long before she was texting him about dinner the next night. And maybe a date the next weekend.

And a quick visit on his way home.

Which was all great, and would have been more than enough to get him through a crappy shift (because it was Saturday and they were busy and Saturdays were _always_ crappy), except one of his regulars had to go and get himself akumatized over _mushrooms on his pizza._ And even though Luka hadn’t been the one to make said pizza, he had been the unfortunate bastard who had delivered it, which meant he was the current target of said akuma.

Which is what found him running down the street, dodging blasts of hot, melty cheese as Chat yowled behind him. He would have thought Chat would be _loving_ this – his kwami adored cheese, didn’t he? – but the next thing he knew Chat was flying over his head and getting himself sealed to a lamppost.

“Thanks,” Chat groaned as Luka grabbed his hand and tugged him out of the goop. The feline hero winced as he scooped a wad of cheese off his chest and flung it to the ground. “I _hate_ cheese.”

“Real – watch out!” Luka cried, shoving Chat into an alley as the akuma blasted them again. The cheese went whizzing between them, but before he could follow Chat a force knocked into his stomach and sent him flying. A moment later he was dropped onto a rooftop, a grinning Ladybug brushing some dust off his shoulders.

“You ok?” she asked, or at least he thought she asked? He was pretty sure she was talking, because her lips were moving, except he was having trouble focusing on much of anything beyond the superhero smiling up at him with… _when had Ladybug started wearing makeup?_

Lips he was becoming increasingly familiar with were curled up in a smirk he honestly just wanted to kiss off her face. He had never seen her lips so _red_ before. He wondered if they’d still taste like berries. Maybe they’d taste of something sweeter. More forbidden.

…Luka had had his suspicions, of course. He’d suspected Ladybug’s identity for a long while now, but he’d also understood the need for secrecy and had respected her orders to never reveal their identities. If the time ever came where those orders changed, then he’d tell her what he had suspected. _If_ he was right – and he was pretty sure he was right. Seeing Ladybug’s new pixie cut, her deep red bangs sweeping over Marinette’s eyes with Marinette’s lips grinning up at him, felt like confirmation enough.

Those lips were moving, but he was only dimly aware of what they were saying. Of course he noticed her new suit. The hair. He was the _observant_ one – of course he noticed. But there was something _more_ than just her new look about her, something more subtle captivating his attention. Ladybug had always been confident, but there was a gleam in her eye – a curl of her lip, a cock of her hip – that belied a newfound comfort in that confidence. This wasn’t just Ladybug. This was _Marinette_ – a Marinette who had claimed her own identity. Who was finally, fully embracing all aspects of who she was.

…who had maybe also claimed him, too, and wasn’t that just something. But her lips were still moving. Frowning now. Why was she frowning? What had she been saying?

“Luka?” she asked, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder. His hand immediately covered hers, and he didn’t miss the way her smile warmed at the touch. She caught herself after a moment, though, and schooled her expression before squeezing his shoulder and pulling away. “Are you all right? He didn’t get you, did he?”

“Luka’s _fine_ ,” a grumpy voice snapped from the ledge. They both turned in time to see Chat vault over the side, still grumbling as he flicked cheese off his suit. “Thank God the suits are magic. This would _never_ wash…holy crap…”

His staff fell from his hand in a clatter, his jaw dropping as his eyes raked over Ladybug – and Luka wasn’t entirely sure he liked how the other hero was looking at his girlfriend. He’d never considered himself the jealous type, and he trusted Marinette completely, but…he also knew Chat. Everyone in Paris knew Chat. It was no secret how… _Chatty_ he could be.

“I’m ok,” Luka said, pulling Ladybug’s attention back to him. He smiled at her, shrugging a little. “You got to me before the akuma could. Thanks, Ladybug. Nice makeover, by the way.”

Her cheeks pinked, and he could feel his grin turning stupid. God, he loved her…

“Yeah, what gives?! How did you do that? You look _great_ , m’Lady – more than great. You look hot! Amazing! But it’s not fair!” Chat whined. There was a scream from the street below, and Ladybug winced as Chat continued to wave at her suit. “How –”

“Not now, Chat!” she said. She looked back at Luka. “You should be safe up here. I’ll come for you after we handle the akuma. Any clue what set it off?”

“Mushrooms,” Luka said with a roll of his eyes. Ladybug’s eyebrows rose, and he shrugged. “The akuma’s in the cheese around his hands. That was his pizza. Please go kick his ass, Ladybug.”

Ladybug’s eyebrows soared as Chat squawked something behind them, but Luka’s focus was still on his transformed girlfriend. He wished he could give her a kiss for luck, but they didn’t have time. Not that she really needed it, and he could kiss her later. When he was allowed. He settled for leaning closer and winking at her, and her blush darkened enough that Chat squawked again.

“Between you and me, I am one hundred percent over work right now and would _much_ rather be back home,” he whispered. His grin grew a little as he dipped his head towards her. “Making out with my girlfriend.”

He could feel the heat from her face, and he wondered if maybe he’d gone too far. She was still smiling at him, though, like she not only shared the secret (she did) but also approved.

“Stay out of trouble,” she warned, but her tone was teasing. His smile was starting to hurt.

“No promises,” he chuckled. “Couffaine.”

She laughed at that, her hand coming up to hide her smile, but that only made him smile more. She stepped back, and when she pulled her hand away she surprised the hell out of him – and Chat – by blowing him a kiss. He automatically reached up to ‘catch’ it, his face warming and his smile turning a thousand times more _Stupid_ as she winked at him and back-flipped off the roof. Chat took longer to chase after her, but it was only another moment before he was, as always, hot on her heels with a whine and a protested shout. Luka continued to grin like the Idiot – the _Dork_ – he was, the hand holding her kiss pressed above his heart.

God, he loved her…


End file.
